[Strangway in his dark clothes has entered, and stands by the
     door, his lips compressed to a colourless line, his thin,
     darkish face grey-white]

Zame as a man wid ha’ gi’en the doctor, for takin’ what isn’t his’n.

     All but Jarland have seen Strangway.  He steps forward, Jarland
     sees him now; his jaw drops a little, and he is silent.

Strangway.  I came for a little brandy, Mr. Godleigh—­feeling rather faint.  Afraid I mightn’t get through the service.

Godleigh. [With professional composure] Marteil’s Three Star, zurr, or ’Ennessy’s?

Strangway. [Looking at Jarland] Thank you; I believe I can do without, now. [He turns to go.]

     [In the deadly silence, Godleigh touches the arm of Jarland,
     who, leaning against the bar with the pewter in his hand, is
     staring with his strange lowering eyes straight at Strangway.]

Jarland. [Galvanized by the touch into drunken rage] Lave me be —­I’ll talk to un-parson or no.  I’ll tache un to meddle wi’ my maid’s bird.  I’ll tache un to kape ‘is thievin’ ’ands to ’imself.

     [Strangway turns again.]

Clyst. Be quiet, Tam.

Jarland. [Never loosing Strangway with his eyes—­like a bull-dog who sees red] That’s for one chake; zee un turn t’other, the white-livered buty!  Whu lets another man ’ave ‘is wife, an’ never the sperit to go vor un!

Burlacombe.  Shame, Jarland; quiet, man!

[They are all looking at Strangway, who, under Jarland’s drunken insults is standing rigid, with his eyes closed, and his hands hard clenched.  The church bell has stopped slow ringing, and begun its five minutes’ hurrying note.]

Trustaford. [Rising, and trying to hook his arm into Jarland’s] Come away, Tam; yu’ve a-’ad to much, man.

Jarland. [Shaking him off] Zee, ’e darsen’t touch me; I might ’it un in the vase an’ ’e darsen’t; ’e’s afraid—­like ‘e was o’ the doctor.

     [He raises the pewter as though to fling it, but it is seized by
     Godleigh from behind, and falls clattering to the floor. 
     Strangway has not moved.]

Jarland. [Shaking his fist almost in his face] Luke at un, Luke at un!  A man wi’ a slut for a wife——­

[As he utters the word “wife” Strangway seizes the outstretched fist, and with a jujitsu movement, draws him into his clutch, helpless.  And as they sway and struggle in the open window, with the false strength of fury he forces Jarland through.  There is a crash of broken glass from outside.  At the sound Strangway comes to himself.  A look of agony passes over his face.  His eyes light on Jim Bere, who has suddenly risen, and stands feebly clapping his hands.  Strangway rushes out.]

     [Excitedly gathering at the window, they all speak at once.]