He looked at Hazel accusingly; then he gazed up at the coming night as
a lion might at the sound of thunder.

'Be you forty?' Hazel's voice was on the top note of wonder. 'Laws!
what an age!'

'It's not really old,' he pleaded, very humbly for him.

She laughed.

'The parson, now, I suppose he's young?' His voice was wistful.

'He'm the right age.'

Reddin's temper flamed.

'I'll show you if I'm old! I'll show you who makes the best lover, me
or a silly lad!'

'Hands off, Mr. Reddin!'

But her words went down the lonely wind that had begun to drag at the
lighted tent.

'There' said Reddin, pleased with his kisses. 'Now come and dance, and
you'll see if a chap of forty can't tire you. Afterwards we'll settle
the parson's hash.'

He lifted the tent-flap, and they went in and were taken by the bright,