She wanted to overcome her inclination to sob hysterically before she spoke.

She stroked the bony shrivelled fingers, on which her hot scalding tears kept dropping.
"Dunnot do that," said he, at length, in a hollow voice.

"Dunnot take on about it; it's best as it is, missy." "No, Dixon, it's not best.

It shall not be.

You know it shall not--cannot be." "I'm rather tired of living.