On a bench at the foot of the trees, with a pipe in his mouth, and a tankard by his side, sat the worthy carpenter, looking the picture of good-heartedness and benevolence. All the turnkeys were assembled. ” Brendon reappeared, followed by a tall thin man with a stubbly brown moustache and restless grey eyes. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. Beyond was a chaise longue, covered with cushions and shawls laid anyhow across it, together with a discarded tapestry in the making, and a scattering of woollen threads about it. " "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer.
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