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"Yesdidn't I tell you so this moment?" answered Bridget, rising somewhat indignantly, and replacing the flower-pot in its original position. "And trouble enough I have had," she continued, "to get in the table and the chairs, and the benches, and stools, and put the place so that it might be fit to be seen, all by myself. A fine holiday the wench has got!but she shall work for this next week!How many are coming?"

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"I forgot you all the time I wur wud Rose," he remarked naively.Should you do me to death with your dark treacherie?
ONE:"You mustit's right in your eyes."His times were still anxious. Even if the milk-round turned out a success, it was bound to be a loss to him during the first year. A multiplication of servants also meant for a man like Reuben a multiplication of trials. He would have liked to do all the work himself, and could trust no one to do it properly for him. His underlings, with their detached attitude towards the farm, were a perpetual source of anxiety and contempt. His heart sickened for those stalwart sons he had dreamed of in the days of his first marriagea dream which mocked him daily with its pitiful materialisation in the shred of family that still worked for Odiam. Reuben longed for Rose to have a child, but the months passed, and she had no favourable answer to his repeated questionings, which struck her at first as amusing, later as irritating, and at lastat the suggestion of one or two female friendsas indelicate. THREE:Every now and then the crowd would break into the latest rhymings of MacKinnon's poet:
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TWO:Then suddenly she began to plead:

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TWO:"They lie, Master Neville! Bring them here, and I will maintain, in combat against them both, that they have sworn falsely."The body of Edith had been raised during his absence, and, with the winding-sheet wrapped around the clothes in which it had been laid in the earth, was just placed in the galleyman's cloak when Holgrave came up. An involuntary cry burst from the yeoman as he threw himself upon the ground beside the corpse, and, removing the cloth, passionately kissed the hands and the forehead.
FORE:"What! the audacious monk who intruded upon us at Kennington?""He Jack Straw!" cried Wells, with such a look as if his eyes rested on a spectre. "Have I not heard John Ball say that he wished Wat Tyler were like Jack Straw?"

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FORE:"Sack your chaff, nowcan't you sack your chaff?"

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FORE:

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FORE:

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TWO:
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But Reuben did not want her to work. She was rather surprised at this at first, for she had expected that she would go on helping Mrs. Backfield as she had done before her marriage. Reuben, however, was quite firmhis wife was not to redden her skin by stooping over fires, or coarsen her hands by dabbling them in soapsuds. An occasional visit to the dairy or some half-playful help on bread-baking days was all he would allow.He advertised him in the neighbourhood for some weeks beforehand, and gossip ran high. Condemnation of Backfield's ruthlessness in exploiting his brother was combined with a furtive admiration of his smartness as a business man. It was extraordinary how little he cared about "lowering himself," a vital matter with the other farmers of his position. Just as he had thought nothing of working his own farm instead of indulging in the dignity of hired labour, so he thought nothing of making money at Boarzell Fair with the gipsies and pikers.In his weakness he had gone back not only to the religious terrors of his youth, but to the Sussex dialect he had long forgotten.One night early in October he was taking her home. They had crossed Boarzell, and were walking through the lanes that tangle the valley north of Udimore. She walked with her arm conventionally resting on his, her profile demure in the starlight. He felt tired, not in his body, but in his mindsomehow life seemed very aimless and gloomy; he despised himself because he craved for her arms, for her light thoughtless sympathy."Bondman!" exclaimed Holgrave, raising his clenched hand, but he did not strike"lying craven!"
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