And yet you saw his body ...
Bell:
Dead men’s knuckles!
You didn’t swallow that gammon? Why should I
Be sleeping under Winter’s Stob? But Jim—
I doubt if he’d the guts to stick a porker:
You needn’t fear for him. But I must go.
Judith:
Go? You’ll not go without a sup of tea,
After you’ve traiked so far? Michael and Ruth ...
Bell:
Ay, Judith: I just caught a squint of them
Among the cluther outside the circus-tent:
But I was full-tilt on Jim’s track, then: and so,
I couldn’t daunder: or I’d have stopped to have
A closer look: yet I saw that each was carrying
A little image of a Barrasford:
(Looking into the cradle.)
And here’s the reckling image, seemingly—
The sleeping spit of Michael at the age.
Judith: