She went up to Kester, and shook his horny hand, she herself trembling all over.
'Don't talk to me of her,' she said hastily.

'I cannot stand it.
It's a blessing for her to be gone, but, oh----' She began to cry, and then cheered herself up, and swallowed down her sobs.
'Kester,' she went on, hastily, 'Charley Kinraid isn't dead; dost ta know?
He's alive, and he were here o' Tuesday--no, Monday, was it?
I cannot tell--but he were here!' 'A knowed as he weren't dead.

Every one is a-speaking on it.

But a didn't know as thee'd ha' seen him.

A took comfort i' thinkin' as thou'd ha' been wi' thy mother a' t' time as he were i' t' place.' 'Then he's gone ?' said Sylvia.
'Gone; ay, days past.