As far as a know, he but stopped a' neet.

A thought to mysel' (but yo' may be sure a said nought to nobody), he's heerd as our Sylvia were married, and has put it in his pipe, and ta'en hissel' off to smoke it.' 'Kester!' said Sylvia, leaning forwards, and whispering.

'I saw him.
He was here.

Philip saw him.

Philip had known as he wasn't dead a' this time!' Kester stood up suddenly.
'By goom, that chap has a deal t' answer for.' A bright red spot was on each of Sylvia's white cheeks; and for a minute or so neither of them spoke.
Then she went on, still whispering out her words.
'Kester, I'm more afeared than I dare tell any one: can they ha' met, think yo'?
T' very thought turns me sick.