quivering lips (I believe she thought he was mad), to speak in the old tones of shrill upbraiding that he knew so well.
"And thou'st spent all thy wagesI'll swear thou haston the devil's own drinkand thou'st been and made thysen a beast againas thou allus dost"
"Hasna!" the man muttered, his voice hardly rising above a whisper, as he slowly emptied his pockets on the table. "There's th' wage, Missus, every penny on't."
The woman gasped, and put one hand to her heart, as if under some great shock of surprise. "Then how's thee gotten th' drink?"
"Hasna gotten it," he answered her, in a tone more sad than sullen. "I hanna touched a drop this blessed day. No!" he cried aloud, bringing his clenched fist heavily down upon the table, and looking up at her with gleaming eyes, "nor I'll never touch another drop o' the cursed drinktill I dieso help me God my Maker!" His voice, which had suddenly risen to a hoarse shout, dropped again as suddenly: and once more he bowed his head, and buried his face in his folded arms.
