His long, loose frame had drawn itself up with a certain dignity.
'Ha done wi your cantin!' said Hannah under her breath, laying her two hands on the table, and stooping down so as to face him with more effect.

The phrase startled Reuben with a kind of horror.
Whatever words might have passed between them, never yet that he could remember had his wife allowed herself a sneer at his religion.

It seemed to him suddenly as though he and she were going fast downhill--slipping to perdition, because of Sandy's six hundred pounds.
But she cowed him--she always did.

She stayed a moment in the same bent and threatening position, coercing him with angry eyes.

Then she straightened herself, and moved away.
'Let t' lad tak hisself off if he wants to,' she said, an iron resolution in her voice.