“Is it that you’re afraid of⁠—”

“I am not afraid of you ,” interposed Miss Potterson, “if you mean that.”

“But I humbly don’t mean that, Miss Abbey.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“You really are so cruel hard upon me! What I was going to make inquiries was no more than, might you have any apprehensions⁠—leastways beliefs or suppositions⁠—that the company’s property mightn’t be altogether to be considered safe, if I used the house too regular?”

“What do you want to know for?”

“Well, Miss Abbey, respectfully meaning no offence to you, it would be some satisfaction to a man’s mind, to understand why the Fellowship Porters is not to be free to such as me, and is to be free to such as Gaffer.”