"Well, Parker, what have you got to say to that? Well, Deane, you know us better. Haven't we always treated you decently?" she asked sharply.
"Oh, ay." Old Deane shuffled clumsy boots on the stone pavement.
One of the boys at the back of the little crowd sniggered nervously. Deane glared round for a minute then replied, "Oh, ay. I haven't nowt to say agin you."
"You can't, you see. Have either of us done you a single bad turn since you decided to stay on ten years ago?"
"Nay, but——"
"Did my father ever hurt you?"
"Nay, but——"
"And are you treating us decently now?"
Deane looked up with a suspicion of the old twinkle in his eye.
"Nay, missus. We're treating you about as badly as we can. But a man must live. We've got oursens to look to."