_
LIESE
[_Coming back out of the stable._] Guste! D'ye know, Marie is gone.
AUGUSTE
Aw, don' tell me!
LIESE
Go in there'n ask the coachman's wife. She's gittin' her a drop o' milk.
BEIPST
[_Hangs up his scythe on the wall._] Ye'd better not let that Spiller
creature get wind o' it.
AUGUSTE
Oh, Lord, no! Who'd think o' it!
LIESE
A poor woman like that with eight--
AUGUSTE
Eight little brats. They wants to be fed!
LIESE
An' they wouldn't give her a drop o' milk even. It's low, that's what I
calls it.
AUGUSTE
Where is she milkin'?
LIESE
Way back there.
BEIPST
[_Fills his pipe. Holding his tobacco-pouch with his teeth he mumbles._]
Ye say Marie's gone?
LIESE
Yes, it's true an' certain. The parson's hired man slept with her.
BEIPST
[_Replacing the tobacco-pouch in his pocket._] Everybody feels that way
sometimes--even a woman. [_He lights his pipe and disappears through the
gateway. In going:_] I'm goin' fer a bit o' breakfast.
THE COACHMAN'S WIFE
[_Hiding the pot full of milk carefully under her apron, sticks her head
out of the stable door._] Anybody in sight?
LIESE
Ye c'n come if ye'll hurry.
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