"There's no doubt that he's been strange ever since he came out of quod. Poor old Nigel—life's hit him hard, and bruised him a lot."
"He was funny about kids from the first. He took a tremendous fancy to that odious little Ivy Batt who comes for the milk."
"I expect this is part of the same game."
"I expect it is—but it hurts me to think of it."
She turned to the fire, and a sigh shook her breast—life had a habit of hitting hard all round.
A few minutes later Nigel came in. He set down his violin, and went over to the hearth, kneeling beside Janey. She put her arms round him, and drew his head to her shoulder.
"Old man ... is it really true that you go about the villages fiddling to kids?"
"Yes—I like to see 'em dance."
"Are you fond of them?"