"Come farther up."
"You mean about the man?" says Jo, following. "Him as was dead?"
"Hush! Speak in a whisper! Yes. Did he look, when he was living, so very ill and poor!"
"O jist!" says Jo.
"Did he look like—not like you?" says the woman with abhorrence.
"O not so bad as me," says Jo. "I'm a reg'lar one, I am! You didn't know him, did you?"
"How dare you ask me if I knew him?"
"No offense, my lady," says Jo, with much humility; for even he has got at the suspicion of her being a lady.
"I am not a lady. I am a servant."
"You are a jolly servant!" says Jo; without the least idea of saying any thing offensive; merely as a tribute of admiration.