’John Crumb coming here, grandfather?  He’s welcome to stay away then, for me.’

‘That be dommed.’  The old man thrust his old hat on to his head and seated himself in a wooden arm-chair that stood by the kitchen-fire.  Whenever he was angry he put on his hat, and the custom was well understood by Ruby.  ’Why not welcome, and he all one as your husband?  Look ye here, Ruby, I’m going to have an eend o’ this.  John Crumb is to marry you next month, and the banns is to be said.’

’The parson may say what he pleases, grandfather.  I can’t stop his saying of ’em.  It isn’t likely I shall try, neither.  But no parson among ’em all...