But the tenderness in his voice only seemed to irritate her. She flashed a look at him of aversion, of contempt. “You are a fool, Wolf,” she whispered. “I never supposed you were quite such a fool!”

Then she jumped to her feet. “Come on, Mother! Never mind those Nevilton hymns. Lobbie and I want to start in a minute. Come, both of you, and let’s make the sandwiches!”

Her mother and brother followed her into the kitchen, and Wolf was left alone with Mr. Torp.

“Cold meat for me dinner, and hot damnation for me pudding, seems so!” remarked that good man. “Well, if I’ve got to walk to Nevilton this afternoon, I shall traipsy round to ostler Jim’s this morning. He’ll be finished cleaning up in Peewits backyard by now; and him and me can sit snug for a while⁠ ⁠… ‘doors all locked and maids all mum,’ as the saying is.”