“And you!”
“I don’t drink, and I bain’t in a decline. But—I am no great things at singing afore breakfast now!”
“How is that? Do you remember how neatly you used to turn ‘’Twas down in Cupid’s Gardens’ and ‘The Tailor’s Breeches’ at morning milking?”
“Ah, yes! When you first came, sir, that was. Not when you had been there a bit.”
“Why was that falling-off?”
Her black eyes flashed up to his face for one moment by way of answer.
“Izz!—how weak of you—for such as I!” he said, and fell into reverie. “Then—suppose I had asked you to marry me?”
“If you had I should have said ‘Yes’, and you would have married a woman who loved ’ee!”
“Really!”
“Down to the ground!” she whispered vehemently. “O my God! did you never guess it till now!”