human
Ye're not looking right hearty, said Mr. Poyntz, with bluff geniality, while his good wife set before me a huge plate of daintily fried bacon and eggs, and a smoking cup of coffee.
gpt
Maybe ye walked a bit too far last night? 'Twas powerful late afore ye got home, anyhow.
human
Yes, said I, glancing at Agatha, who was knitting a pair of stockings for Peter in the eastern window, the morning sun glistening on the broad plaits of her yellow hair.
gpt
Yes, Mr. Poyntz, I think I must have made a very long journey last evening. By-the-way, is not to-day Sunday?
human
Ay, surely! exclaimed husband and wife in a breath; and then the former added,
gpt
Ye'll be wanting to go to church, I suppose?
human
No, not this Sunday; though I hope to go before long, if Miss Agatha is willing to show me the way. I glanced at her again as I said this, but she would not look up, and I could not even be sure whether she were listening.
gpt
What I want, I continued,
human
Up the stream, is it? returned he, pausing in the operation of cutting up a piece of tobacco, and turning his blue eyes on me;