That 'll show you the sort o ' man I be . ' Again he winked , and again the Bee Boy laughed and Una stared at Dan . ' I know what sort o ' man you be , ' old Hobden grunted , groping for the potatoes round the fire . ` Do ye ? ' Tom went on behind his back . ` Some of us ca n't abide Horseshoes , or Church Bells , or Running Water ; an ' , talkin ' o ' runnin ' water ' -- he turned to Hobden , who was backing out of the roundel -- 'd ` you mind the great floods at Robertsbridge , when the miller 's man was drowned in the street ? ' ` Middlin ' well . ' Old Hobden let himself down on the coals by the fire-door . ' I was courtin ' my woman on the Marsh that year . Carter to Mus ' Plum I was , gettin ' ten shillin 's week . Mine was a Marsh woman . ' ` Won ` erful odd-gates place -- Romney Marsh , ' said Tom Shoesmith . ` I 've heard say the world 's divided like into Europe , Ashy , Afriky , Ameriky , Australy , an ' Romney Marsh . ' ` The Marsh folk think so , ' said Hobden . ' I had a hem o ' trouble to get my woman to leave it . ' ` Where did she come out of ? I 've forgot , Ralph . ' ` Dymchurch under the Wall , ' Hobden answered , a potato in his hand . ` Then she 'd be a Pett -- or a Whitgift , would she ? ' ` Whitgift . '
XXXXX broke open the potato and ate it with the curious neatness of men who make most of their meals in the blowy open .
Afriky Dymchurch Hobden Middlin Robertsbridge Tom odd-gates roundel shillin year