For a moment the fat man looked at her. Then he inclined his head.
“Your servant, me lady,” he said respectfully.
“Rot,” said Ann. “You’re my uncle,” and kissed him then and there.
“Oh, you peach,” said her uncle, and kissed her back. With his arm about her, he addressed the rest of the company. “Jus’ leave us alone a few minutes, will you?” he said. “There’s one or two ’ymns we want to run over together.”
This allusion to a recent scandal in which a local pillar of the nonconformist church was involved naturally evoked great merriment.
Ann tried to be thankful.
It also inspired Mr. Alcock.
“Break away, break away, there,” he cried.
Uncle Tom screwed round his head.
“Percy, me lad,” he said, “you ’aven’t a chance. This little girl likes ’em fat.”