needn't go no further than my awnself to tell 'ee that. P'r'aps you
mayn't think it, but I've bin kep' fra doin' ever so many things by the
thought o' 'What'll Adam say?' and with the glass in my hand I've set
it down untasted, thinkin' to myself, 'Now you'm actin' agen Adam's
wish, you knaw.'"

Adam smiled as he gave her a little shake of the hand.

"That's how 'tis, you see," she continued: "you'm doin' good without
knawin' of it." Then, turning her dark eyes wistfully upon him, she
asked, "Do 'ee ever think a bit 'pon poor Joan while you'm away, Adam?
Come, now, you mustn't shove off from me altogether, you knaw: you must
leave me a dinkey little corner to squeeze into by."

Adam clasped her hand tighter. "Oh, Joan," he said, "I'd give the whole
world to see my way clearer than I do now: I often wish that I could
take you all off to some place far away and begin life over again."

"Awh!" said Joan in a tone of sympathy to which her heart did not very
cordially respond, "that 'ud be a capital job, that would; but you
ain't manin' away from Polperro?"

"Yes, far away. I've bin thinkin' about it for a good bit: don't you
remember I said something o' the sort to father a little time back?"

"Iss, but I didn't knaw there was any more sense to your words than to
threaten un, like. Awh, my dear!" she said with a decided shake of the
head, "that 'ud never do: don't 'ee get hold o' such a thought as that.
Turn your back upon the place? Why, whatever 'ud they be about to let
'ee do it?"