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`She'd as leave think of flying.' `Ah, I always spoilt my lot! That's why they've turned out such bad uns,' said the elderly woman. `You'd only Clara,' he said. `And Mr Radford's in heaven. So I suppose there's only you left to be the bad un.' `I'm not bad; I'm only soft,' she said, as she went out of the bedroom. `I'm only a fool, I am!' Clara was very quiet at breakfast, but she had a sort of air of proprietorship over him that pleased him infinitely. Mrs Radford was evidently fond of him. He began to talk of his painting. `What's the good,' exclaimed the mother, `of your whittling and worrying and twistin' and too-in' at that painting of yours? What good does it do you, I should like to know? You'd better be enjoyin' yourself.' `Oh, but,' exclaimed Paul, `I made over thirty guineas last year.' `Did you! Well, that's a consideration, but it's nothing to the time you put in.' `And I've got four pounds owing. A man said he'd give me five pounds if I'd paint him and his missis and the dog and the cottage. And I went and put the fowls in instead of the dog, and he was waxy, so I had to knock a quid off. I was sick of it, and I didn't like the dog. I made a picture of it. What shall I do when he pays me the four pounds?' `Nay! you know your own uses for your money,' said Mrs Radford. `But I'm going to bust this four pounds. Should we go to the seaside for a day or two?' `Who?' `You and Clara and me.' `What, on your money!' she exclaimed, half wrathful. `Why not?' `You wouldn't be long in breaking your neck at a hurdle race!' she said. `So long as I get a good run for my money! Will you?' `Nay; you may settle that atween you.' `And you're willing?' he asked, amazed and rejoicing. `You'll do as you like,' said Mrs Radford, `whether I'm willing or not.' |
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