So loud was the voice of Mr. Torp, that no sooner had he resumed his seat than his wife and Gerda burst in.

“What’s this about Sunday, John?” said the lady sharply. “Can’t you leave that boy in peace for a moment when my back’s turned? If it be Sunday, what of it? Here’s our Gerdie asking for nice meat-sandwiches for to take the lad picnicking. Mr. Solent says he can’t stay, so me and you can do what I was telling ’ee just now⁠ ⁠… go quiet and natural to Nevilton meeting. What do ’ee think I went to the trouble of putting my best dress on for? To hot up yesterday’s Yorkshire pudding? If some can eat cold meat, others can eat cold meat. There’ll never be, all Spring I tell ’ee, such a day for me and you to cover them quiet miles.”