[she can picture it, somehow. Both amused and a little horrified that he had to stoop to that so she just ends up feeling a little sad for him.

After all, who is the one to blame for driving him to this life-- this tiny little shanty.]

So I'll take them home and wash them and give it back later. Before you need it. I'm not having you wash my dress. [and she isn't going to wash it like this, though she has done that sort of thing before a very long time ago and nothing she wants to dwell on

She pulls on the skirt but its ridiculously long on her.]

Ay I'm going to drown in this. [and how will she keep it out of the mud]

You know, I'll just wear the old one back. [there's no point in trying to save any dignity right now. Anyway, who would care if she had it or not?]