The quality don't trouble _you_ at 'lection times.

This yoong man, Muster Wharton, as is goin' round so free, promisin' yer the sun out o' the sky, iv yer'll only vote for 'im, so th' men say--_ee_ don't coom an' set down along o' you an' me, an' cocker of us up as ee do Joe Simmons or Jim Hurd here.

But that don't matter.

Yur thinkin's yur own, anyway." But she nudged him in vain.

Patton had suddenly run down, and there was no more to be got out of him.
Not only had nerves and speech failed him as they were wont, but in his cloudy soul there had risen, even while Marcella was speaking, the inevitable suspicion which dogs the relations of the poor towards the richer class.