"Well!" said she, turning sharp round in her tottering walk up and
down as Job came in.
"Well, speak!" repeated she, before he could make up his mind what
to say; for, to tell the truth, he was studying for some kind-
hearted lie which might soothe her for a time. But now the real
state of the case came blurting forth in answer to her impatient
questioning.
"Will's not to the fore. But he'll maybe turn up yet, time enough."
She looked at him steadily for a minute, as if almost doubting if
such despair could be in store for her as his words seemed to imply.
Then she slowly shook her head, and said, more quietly than might
have been expected from her previous excited manner--
"Don't go for to say that! Thou dost not think it. Thou'rt well-
nigh hopeless, like me. I seed all along my lad would be hung for
what he never did. And better he were, and were shut* of this weary
world, where there's neither justice nor mercy left."
*Shut; quit.
She looked up with tranced eyes as if praying, and then sat down.
"Nay, now thou'rt off at a gallop," said Job.
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