"Then wait she may," said Adam: "I'm goin' to stop where I am.--Here,
father," he cried, "pass the liquor this way. Come, push the grog
about. Last come first served, you know."

The heartiness with which this was said caused considerable
astonishment.

"Iss, iss, lad," said old Zebedee, his face glowing under the effects
of hot punch and the efforts of hospitality. "That's well said. Set to
with a will, and you'll catch us up yet."

During the laughter called forth by this challenge, Joan took another
opportunity of speaking. "Why, what be 'bout, Adam?" she said, seeing
how unlike his speech and action were to his usual self. "Doan't 'ee go
and cut off your naws to spite yer face, now. Eve's close by here.
Her's as sorry as anythin', her is: her wouldn't ha' gone out for
twenty pounds if her'd knawed it."

"I wish you'd hold yer tongue," said Adam: "I've told you I'm goin' to
stop here. Be off with you, now!"

But Joan, bent on striving to keep him from an excess to which she saw
exasperation was goading him, made one more effort. "Awh, Adam," she
said, "do 'ee come now. Eve--"

"Eve be--"

But before the word had well escaped his lips Joan's hand was clapped
over his mouth. Too late, for Eve had come up behind them, and as Adam
turned his head to shake Joan off he found himself face to face before