The lawyer's change of position had involved some shifting of the others' chairs, and the young minister found himself directly confronted by Brother Pierce's hard and colorless old visage.

Its little eyes were watching him, as through a mask, and under their influence the smile of politeness fled from his lips.

The lawyer on his right, the cheese-buyer to the left, seemed to recede into distance as he for the moment returned the gaze of the quarryman.

He waited now for him to speak, as if the others were of no importance.
"We are a plain sort o' folks up in these parts," said Brother Pierce, after a slight further pause.

His voice was as dry and rasping as his cough, and its intonations were those of authority.