"Wot have you come fur?"
"To ask you—to ask you—Oh, fäather!" she burst into tears, her broad bosom heaved under her faded gown, and she pressed her hands against it as if to keep it still.
"Döan't täake on lik that," said Reuben, "tell me wot you've come fur."
"I dursn't now—it's no use—you're a hard man."
"Then döan't come sobbing and howling in my parlour. You can go if you've naun more to say."
She pulled herself together with an effort.
"I thought you might—perhaps you might help us ..."
Reuben said nothing:
"We're in a larmentable way up at Grandturzel."
Her father still said nothing.