Thus invited Peter slowly opened the door a very little wider and squeezed himself into the room. He was indeed a very awkward-looking youth, and though he was broad-shouldered and strongly made, he was so badly put together that he did not seem to join properly anywhere, and moved with effort as though he were walking in a heavy clay soil. Everything about Peter, and even the colour of his clothes, made you think of a ploughed field, and he generally kept his eyes fastened on the ground as though following the course of a furrow. This was a pity, for his eyes were the only good features in his broad red face, and had the kindly faithful expression seen in those of some dogs.
As he stood there, ill at ease, with his enormous hands opening and shutting nervously, Lilac thought of Agnetta’s speech: “Peter’s so common.” If to be common was to look like Peter, it was a thing to be avoided, and she was dismayed to hear Uncle Joshua say:
“Well, now, if you’re not just in time to go home with Lilac here, seein’ as how we’ve done our tea, and her mother’ll be looking for her.”
“Oh, Uncle, I’d rather not,” said Lilac hastily. Then she added, “I want you to play me a tune before I go.”
Joshua was always open to a compliment about his playing.
“Ah!” he said, “you want a tune, do you? Well, and p’r’aps Peter he’d like to hear it too.”
As he spoke he gave the boots to Peter, who was now engaged in dragging up a leather purse from some great depth beneath his gaberdine. This effort, and the necessity of replying, flushed his face to a deeper red than ever, but he managed to say huskily as he counted some coin into Joshua’s hand:
“No, thank you, Mr Snell. Can’t stop tonight.”
Nevertheless it was some moments before he could go away: he stood clasping his boots and staring at Joshua.
“The money’s all right, my lad,” said the latter.