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Galsworthy, John, 1867-1933

"Five Tales"

How long he had been sitting in that curious state of
vacancy he had no notion when he saw Joe standing a little behind him
to the right. The youth had evidently come from hard work in the fields,
and stood shifting his feet, breathing loudly, his face coloured like
a setting sun, and his arms, below the rolled-up sleeves of his blue
shirt, showing the hue and furry sheen of ripe peaches. His red lips
were open, his blue eyes with their flaxen lashes stared fixedly at
Ashurst, who said ironically:
"Well, Joe, anything I can do for you?"
"Yeas."
"What, then?"
"Yu can goo away from yere. Us don' want yu."
Ashurst's face, never too humble, assumed its most lordly look.
"Very good of you, but, do you know, I prefer the others should speak
for themselves."
The youth moved a pace or two nearer, and the scent of his honest heat
afflicted Ashurst's nostrils.
"What d'yu stay yere for?"
"Because it pleases me."
"Twon't please yu when I've bashed yure head in!"
"Indeed! When would you like to begin that?"
Joe answered only with the loudness of his breathing, but his eyes
looked like those of a young and angry bull. Then a sort of spasm seemed
to convulse his face.


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