"Eh? . . . Mr Middlecoat—"
"Saw him takin' his leave, not above three minutes ago."
"You,—you saw him taking his leave?"
"Stridin' down the hill, angry as a bull," Cai assured her.
"He's a dreadful man to have for a neighbour," confessed Mrs Bosenna, recovering grip on her composure. "The way he threatens and bullies!"
"I'll Middlecoat him, if he gives me but half a chance!" swore 'Bias.
"If I'd known either of you was in hail. . . . But I reckoned you'd both be countin' this for a Sunday."
"Christmas Day isn't Sunday, not more'n once in seven years," objected
'Bias.
"It's Friday this year," said Cai, with simple conviction.
"Fiddlestick!" retorted 'Bias. "You can't make it out to be like an ordinary Friday—I defy you. There's a—a feelin' about the day."