"Ay, he’s kind, is Will. He’s a right good friend. But I won’t take owt I can help from him, all the same." "Because o’ yon woman of his?" Simon asked angrily, stumbling to his feet. He threw a last glance at the fire, and saw that it seemed resigned to its now evident fate. He was sorry for Sarah, and guiltily conscious of his own relief, but the thought of Eliza whipped his mind to rage. This was nothing new, though, either to man or wife, after the usual meeting at the end of the week. However long they had held their tongues from her name, it was suddenly out, and the air was vibrating at once with the rising tremolo of their hate. "Nay, then, what’s yon besom to do wi’ it, any way round? Will’s money’s his own, I reckon, and he can do as he likes. Happen you’ll choose to see sense about it come Judgment Day, but not afore!" "A farmer’s wife addles half his brass,--we all know that. You can’t touch a man wi’out laying a finger on his folks." "A deal Eliza’s done for him," Simon scoffed, "barrin’ giving him best of her tongue! I’ll be bound you’d never think twice about t’brass if you and Eliza was friends. It’s this spite as there is atween you as sets you taking things amiss. Eliza would likely ha’ been no worse than most, if you hadn’t made sure she was always wanting a slap!" Sarah received these remarks with an ironic smile. "Bosom friends we’d ha’ been, d’ye think," she asked, "if I’d nobbut seen my way to a bit more care?" "Nay, well, I wouldn’t be sure about that," he returned grandly, hedging with ease. "But we’d all ha’ done better, I’ll take my oath, if you hadn’t been that smart to take offence." "Happen I’d ha’ done best to hold my tongue, when she was telling all Witham we’d gitten notice to quit?" "Nay, I don’t know about that!" ... He was stamping about the floor. "A bit o’ tact wi’ her, happen? ... nay, dang her, I don’t know! ... Leastways, you needn’t ha’ tellt her yon rubbish this afternoon," he concluded, brought to a stand. "You’d have had me set by and say nowt while she sneered at our lad?" "Nay, then, I wouldn’t,--dang her! ... I wouldn’t, that’s flat!" "You’d have had me say nowt, neither, yon day we was wed,--give her a kiss, happen, and praise her gown----?" "Nay, then, I wouldn’t, I tell you! Blast you! Nowt o’ the sort!" Simon was fairly shouting now. He thumped at the table in his rage. "I wish to Gox I could ha’ gitten my hands round her throat wi’out having to swing!" Sarah looked at his prancing shape with the same ironic smile.