"If one's enough at a time, I'll be off," he said, "and fetch up again next Sunday."
But Enoch welcomed him.
"I'm in good fettle, Arthur, and be very willing to make hay while the sun shines."
Arthur, however, doubted.
"You'm looking so grim as a ghost, my old dear," he answered, "and so white as a dog's tooth."
Mr. Withycombe laughed.
"You be a cheerful one for a death-bed, sure enough," he answered.
"There's no death, Enoch, and you know it so well as what I do."
"And you an undertaker! Mind you deal fair and square with me, Chaffe; for death, or no death, 'tis as certain as life that I shall want some of your best seasoned elm afore very long."
But Mr. Chaffe steadied the conversation.