n with 'ee, like a dear."

Jerrem gave a look round. Eve was busy clearing the table, Adam was
putting some tobacco into his pouch. He hesitated, then he made a step
forward, then he drew back again, until at last, with visible effort, he
said, "Come, give us yer hand, Adam." With no affectation of cordiality
Adam held out his hand. "Whatever comes, you've spoke up fair for me,
and acted better than most would ha' done, seem' that I've let my tongue
run a bit too fast 'bout you o' late."

"Oh, don't think I've done any more for you than I should ha' done for
either one o' the others," said Adam, not willing to accept a feather's
weight of Jerrem's gratitude. "However," he added, trying to force
himself into a greater show of graciousness, "here's wishin' all may go
well with you, as with all of us!"

Not over-pleased with this cold reception of his advances, Jerrem turned
hastily round to Joan. "Here, let's have a kiss, Joan," he said.

"Iss, twenty, my dear, so long as you'll only be quick 'bout it."

"Eve!"

"There! nonsense now!" exclaimed Joan, warned by an expression in Adam's
face: "there's no call for no leave-takin' with Eve: her'll be here so
well as you."

The words, well-intentioned as they were, served as fuel to Adam's
jealous fire, and for a moment he felt that it was impossible to go away
and leave Jerrem behind; but the next instant the very knowledge of that
passing weakness was only urging him to greater self-command, although
the effort it cost him gave a hardness to his voice and a coldness to
his manner. One tender word, and his resolve would be gone--one soft
emotion, and to go would be impossible.

Eve, on her part, with all her love reawakened, her fears excited and
her imagination sharpened, was wrought up to a pitch of emotion which
each moment grew more and more beyond her control. In her efforts to
keep calm she busied herself in clearing the table and moving to and fro
the chairs, all the time keenly alive to the fact that Joan was hovering
about Adam, suggesting comforts, supplying resources and pouring out a
torrent of wordy hopes and fears. Surely Adam would ask--Joan would
think to give them--one moment to themselves? If not she would demand
it, but before she could speak, boom on her heart came Adam's "Good-bye,
Joan, good-bye." What can she do now? How bear this terrible parting? In
her efforts to control the desire to give vent to her agony her powers
of endurance utterly gav