You must be wet through.' 'No; I won't stay,' responded Owen.

'I don't want to stand about any longer than I can help in these wet clothes.' 'But it won't take you a minit to drink a cup of tea,' Linden insisted.
'I won't ask you to stop longer than that.' Owen entered; the old man closed the door and led the way into the kitchen.

At one side of the fire, Linden's wife, a frail-looking old lady with white hair, was seated in a large armchair, knitting.

Linden sat down in a similar chair on the other side.

The two grandchildren, a boy and girl about seven and eight years, respectively, were still seated at the table.
Standing by the side of the dresser at one end of the room was a treadle sewing machine, and on one end of the dresser was a a pile of sewing: ladies' blouses in process of making.