“I agree with you, Capt’n,” said Lovibond.
“He’s a brute!” said Davy, more loudly.
“Of course we’ve only heard one side of the story,” said Lovibond.
“No matter; he’s a brute and a scoundrel,” said Davy. “Dont you hould with me there, mate?”
“I do,” said Lovibond. “But still—who knows? She may—I say she may—be one of those women who want their own way.”
“All women wants it,” said Davy. “It’s mawther’s milk to them—Mawther Eve’s milk, as you might say.”
“True, true!” said Lovibond; “but though she looks so sweet she may have a temper.”
“And what for shouldn’t she?” said Davy, “D’ye think God A’mighty meant it all for the men?”
“Perhaps,” said Lovibond, “she turned up her nose at his coarse ways and rough comrades.”
“And right, too,” said Davy. “Let him keep his dirty trousses to hisself. Who is he?”