Reuben looked as if he had swallowed the poker. He stared at her to see if she were making fun of him, but her bright eyes were quite innocent.
"Yes," he said huskily—"it is."
"We've only been here a month, so I haven't got the neighbourhood quite clear. You see I can't often go out, as my mother's generally in bed, and I have all the house-work to do. That's why my father has to have a man to help him out of doors. It's a pity, for wages are so high—Handshut's leaving us because we could do with someone cheaper and less experienced."
Reuben liked her voice, with its town modulation, the only vestige of Sussex taint being a slight drawl. It struck him that Alice Jury was a "lady," and that he was not condescending very much in speaking to her.
"It's unaccountable hard to know what to do about labour. Now as these fellers are gitting eddicated they think no end of theirselves and 'ull ask justabout anything in wages—as if a man hoed turnups any better for being able to read and write."
"But don't you think he does?"
"No—I döan't. I'm all agäunst teaching poor people anything and setting them above theirselves. It's different fur their betters. Now I've got six boys, and they can all read and write and cast accounts."
"Six boys, have you? Are they grown up?"
"Yes, the youngest's sixteen."