“I said, ‘Who be you?’” she remarked, putting her arms akimbo.
“My name’s George Williams.”
“And what do you want, George Williams?”
“Work.”
“What sort?”
“Any sort.”
“That’s bad, because I haven’t got none for you.”
“Good-day then, ma’am,” he said as he turned away.
The woman came out of the barn and stood watching him; she had never seen a tramp before who had any pretensions to good manners. He looked round and saw her, and some impulse made him go back.
“Please would ye let me lie in that barn to-night, if I may be so bold as to ask ye?”