retort.

'You wunna tell 'im?' she pleaded.

''Im? Never will I! Wild 'orses shanna drag it from me, nor yet blood
'orses, nor 'unters, nor cart-'orses, nor Suffolk punches!' Vessons
waxed eloquent, for again righteousness and desire coincided. He did
not want a woman at Undern.

'Well,' said Hazel, whispering through the crack, 'I lives at the
Callow.'

'What! that lost and forgotten place t'other side the Mountain?'

'Ah! But it inna lost and forgotten; it's better'n this. We've got
bees.'

'So've I got bees.'

'And a music.'

'Music? What's a music? You canna eat it.'

'And my dad makes coffins.'

'Does 'e, now?' said Vessons, interested at last. Then he bethought him
of the credit of Undern. 'But you anna got a mulberry-tree,' he said
triumphantly. 'Now then! _I_ 'ave!'

He creaked downstairs.