"I reckon he's done well fur himself by running away."
"Yes, if he'd stayed he'd never have married Miss Bardon and had his name in all the papers."
"We'll never do anything fur ourselves if we stay at Odiam."
"No—but we'll have to stay. Fäather will make us."
"He couldn't make Richard stay."
Reuben listened as if in a nightmare—the blood in his veins seemed to turn to ice. He could hardly believe his ears.
"Richard's made his fortune by quitting Odiam. 'Tis a good place, but he'd never have done half so valiant for himself if he'd stayed."
Reuben pulled himself together, and swinging round cuffed both speakers unaccustomedly.
"Döan't let me hear another word of that hemmed nonsense. If you think as Richard's bettered himself by running away from Odiam, you're unaccountable mistaken. Wot's a dirty lawyer compared wud a farmer as farms three hundred acres, and owns 'em into the bargain? All my boys have busted and ruined them selves by running away—Richard's the only one that's done anything wotsumdever ... and if he's done well, there's one as has done better, and that's his fäather wot stayed at home."