human
He's my son-in-law; you 'pear to forget that, Blee, said Mr. Lyddon;
gpt
I'm sure I wish I could, if 'twas even now an' again.
human
Why, so he be; an' grey hairs should allus make allowance for the young youths; though I ain't forgot that spadeful o' muck yet, an' never shall. But theer's poison in bwoy's blood what awnly works out of the brain come forty. I'm sure I wish nothing but well to un. He's got his saving graces, same as all of us, if we could but see 'em; an' come what may, God looks arter His awn chosen fules, so theer's hope even for Blanchard.
gpt
Cold consolation, said Mr. Lyddon wearily;