Harry looked at him and then snorted. "Did he now? Thought 'e was lookin' down on us. Lift it..." He took several tools and knelt again. "I wonder whats wrong with his daughter. Lay under a fellow an' got pregnant. There's my guess. That must be a blow." And from his voice it was clear that he found this entertaining, rather than sad.

Claude lifted it once more, holding his tongue from making a comment on his father's rude idea. "Or perhaps it's because he sees me as a son."

Harry stopped working at once, rose and looked at the young man in a "don't mess with me" way.

Claude didn't meet his eye, lifting the cart higher. "I did spend a lot of time there with Simon..."

"He's looking down on us." Harry said and he knelt again.

"How so?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Thinks he's holier than everybody else. Never does owt wrong, does 'e? Thinks 'e can save you too. Bet he thinks 'e's doing better. Well none of mine got hanged. Ye tell him that. I wouldn't have any of mine marry his." He unscrewed the wheel as he talked and pkaced in on the ground.

"You don't need to worry about that..." he commented quietly.

"Tramp's pregnant, I'm telling you. You stay away from her. Or they might frame you." He studied the part where the wheel was to connect.

Claude sneaked a look at his father, hiding the wince behind lifting the cart a bit. "I don't plan on marrying at all father."