"You're a liar, you're a liar." She stiffened herself, with clenched fists.
"The house is filthy with you," she cried.
"Then get out on it--it's mine.

Get out on it!" he shouted.

"It's me as brings th' money whoam, not thee.

It's my house, not thine.

Then ger out on't--ger out on't!" "And I would," she cried, suddenly shaken into tears of impotence.