I'll have the mare out if she will.'
'I can ask her and see. It 'ud be a rare treat for us. I feel myself
as if I couldn't hold up much longer, it's that hot!'
She threw a glance towards the bar.
'Will you have a bottle o' lemonade?' Daniel asked.
'It's very kind of you. I've a sort o' fainty feeling. If you'd just
put ever such a little drop in it, Mr. Dabbs.'
Daniel betrayed a slight annoyance. But he went to the door and gave
the order.
'Still at the same place?' he asked on resuming his seat.
'Emma, you mean? Yes, but it's only been half a week's work, this
last. And I've as good as nothing to do. There's the children
runnin' about with no soles to their feet.'
The lemonade--with a dash in it--was brought to her, and she
refreshed herself with a deep draught. Perhaps the dash was not
perceptible enough; she did not seem entirely satisfied, though
pretending to be so.
'Suppose I come round to-night and ask her myself?' Daniel said, as
the result of a short reflection.
'It 'ud be kind of you if you would, Mr. Dabbs. I'm afraid she'll
tell me she can't afford to lose the day.'
He consulted his watch, then again reflected, still drumming on the
table.
'All right, we'll go,' he said, rising from his chair.
His coat was hanging on a peg behind the door.
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