It seemed to him as though the words came all in the wrong order.
Hannah bent forward and gave a sudden cry.
'Why, yo bin fightin! Yo're all ower blood! Yo bin fightin, and I'll bet a thousand pund yo draw'd in Louie too.

And _sperrits_! Why, yo _smell_ o' sperrits! Yo're jes _reekin_ wi 'em! Wal, upon my word!'-- and Hannah drew herself back, flinging every slow word in his face like a blow.

'Yo feature your mither, yo do, boath on you, pretty close.

I allus said it ud coom out i' yo too.

Prayer-meetin! Yo yoong hypocrite! Gang your ways! Yo may sleep i' th' stable; it's good enough liggin for yo this neet.' And before he had taken in her words she had slammed the door in his face, and locked it.