human
Christ A'mighty! he whispered, with his eyes reflecting a world of sheer amazement and even terror;
gpt
What? Knaw what, Will? For the Lard's sake doan't 'e look at me like that; you'll frighten my heart into my mouth.
human
To think he knawed an' watched an' waited all these years! The spider patience o' that man! I see how 't was. He let the world have its way an' thought to see me broken wi'out any trouble from him. Then, when I conquered, an' got to Miller's right hand, an' beat the world at its awn game, he--an' been nursing this against me! The heart of un!
gpt
Will, tell me what 't is. Caan't your awn true wife help 'e now or never?
human
No, 't is a coil wheer you caan't do nought--nor nobody. The black power o' waitin'--'t is that I never heard tell of. I thought I knawed what was in men to the core--me, thirty years of age, an' a ripe man if ever theer was wan. But this malice! 'T is enough to make 'e believe in the devil.
gpt
What have you done? she cried aloud.
human
Tell me the worst of it, an' how gert a thing he've got against you.
gpt
Bide quiet, he answered.
human
I'll tell 'e, but not on the public road. Not but he'll take gude care every ear has it presently. Shut your mouth now an' come up to our chamber arter breakfast an' I'll tell 'e the rights of it. An' that dog knawed an' could keep it close all these years!
gpt
He's dangerous, an' terrible, an' strong. I see it in your faace, Will.
human
So he is, then; ban't no foxin' you 'bout it now. 'T is an awful power of waitin' he've got; an' he haven't bided his time these years an' years for nothin'. A feast to him, I lay. He've licked his damned lips many a score o' times to think of the food he'd fat his vengeance with bimebye.
gpt
Can he taake you from me? If not I'll bear it.
human
Ess fay, I'm done for; credit, fortune, all gone. It might have been death if us had been to war at the time.
gpt
Death! God's mercy! you've never killed nobody, Will?
human
Not as I knaws on, but p'r'aps ban't tu late to mend it. It freezes me--it freezes my blood to think what his thoughts have been. No, no, ban't death or anything like that. But 't is prison for sure if--
gpt
What, Will? If what? Oh, comfort me, comfort me, Will, for God's sake! An' another li'l wan comin'!
human
Doan't take on, he said.
gpt
Ban't my way to squeal till I'm hurt. Let it bide, an' be bright an' cheery come eating, for mother 's down in the mouth at losin' Chris, though she doan't shaw it.