"But what kind of work could you do, my man?"
"Well, I reckon I could spade a bit----"
"And for that," said Margaret, stepping forwards, "for anything you could do, Higgins, with the best will in the world, you would, may be, get nine shillings a week; may be ten, at the outside. Food is much the same as here, except that you might have a little garden----"
"The childer could work at that," said he. "I'm sick o' Milton anyways, and Milton is sick o' me."

'But what kind of work could you do?'
'Well, I reckon I could spade a bit.'
'And for that,' said Margaret, stepping forwards, 'with the best will in the world, you would, maybe, get nine shillings a week; ten at the outside. And food costs much the same as here.'
'I'm sick o' Milton anyways, and Milton is sick o' me.'
