_Olive._ She is better.

_Giles._ She was taken strangely, if your mother did make light of
it. And the ox, hath he fell down again?

_Olive._ Not that I have heard.

_Giles._ The ox was taken strangely, if your mother did pooh at it.
The ox was better when she went out of the yard.

_Phoebe._ There's Aunt Corey now. Who is she talking to?

_Enter_ Martha Corey.

_Phoebe._ Who were you talking to, Aunt Corey?

_Martha._ Nobody, child. Good-evening, Ann.

_Phoebe._ I heard you talking to somebody, Aunt Corey.

_Martha._ Be quiet, child. I was talking to nobody. You hear too
much nowadays. [_Takes off her cloak._

_Nancy._ Mayhap she hears more than folk want her to. I heard a
voice too, a gruff voice like a pig's.

_Giles._ I thought I heard talking too. Who was it, Martha?

_Martha._ I tell you 'twas no one. Are you all out of your wits?
[_Gets some knitting-work out of a cupboard and seats herself._