You are a miserable, lying, ungrateful man, and I have done with you." He walked away conscious of having again lost his temper, which was rare.
The red-faced man he left stood still, his lips parted, the large yellow teeth showing.

"It's that damned parson," he said.
Penhallow rejoined his wife.

"What did he want ?" she asked.
"Oh, work," he said.

"I told him he could get no more from me." "Well, James," she said, "that is the first sensible thing you have ever done about that man.

You have thoroughly spoiled him, and now it is very likely too late to discipline him." "Yes--perhaps--you may be right." He knew her to be right, but he did not like her agreement with his decision to be connected with even her mild statement that it had been better if long before he had been more reasonably severe and treated Lamb as others would have treated him.