Anybody must breakfast overnight and hurry at that--eat with their loins girded, as you may say, to get upsides with old Lemuel." He ceased speaking, and glanced round over his shoulder calculating the distance to the breakwater, for the boat drew level with the sea-wall of rough-hewn pinkish-grey granite along the river frontage of The Hard gardens.
"There's some as 'ud tell you it was the surprise of old Lemuel's life to find himself a parent," he added, eyeing Tom slyly as he spoke, his mouth remaining open as in preparation for coming laughter.
For those same scandalous little fishes were well into the frying-pan, now--sizzling, frizzling.

And this was a vastly agreeable moment to William Jennifer, worth waiting for, worth scheming for.

Unprintable humour looked out of his twinkling eyes while he watched to see how far Tom Verity caught his meaning.

Then as the young man flushed, sudden distaste, even a measure of shame invading him, Jennifer, true artist in scandal, turned the conversation aside with an air of indulgent apology.
"But, lor, there, you know how people'll talk in a little country place where there ain't much doing!--And it ain't for me to speak of what happened back in those times, being barely out of my teens then and away cow-keeping over Alton way for Farmer Whimsett.

Regular chip of the old block, he was.