At present he wore no collar, and his waistcoat, half-open, exposed a red shirt.
'Why, you're all a-blowin' and a-growin' this morning, Peckover,' was his first observation, as he dropped heavily into a wooden arm-chair.
'I shall begin to think that colour of yours ain't natural.

Dare you let me rub it with a handkerchief ?' 'Course I dare,' replied Clem, tossing her head.

'Don't be so forward, Mr.Snowdon.' 'Forward?
Not I.I'm behind time if anything.

I hope I haven't kept you from church.' He chuckled at his double joke.

Mother and daughter laughed appreciatively.
'Will you take your eggs boiled or fried ?' inquired Mrs.Peckover.
'Going to give me eggs, are you?
Well, I've no objection, I assure you.
And I think I'll have them fried, Mrs.Peckover.But, I say, you mustn't be running up too big a bill.