"But how can I leave her?"
"I must loose her stays—you'll find a brook t' other side the hedge—in your hat!"
Scarcely were the words uttered than the gentleman was over the hedge and as quickly back again, slopping water right and left from his modish, curly-brimmed hat in his frantic haste; this he set down at Diana's command and, turning away, began to stride up and down, muttering agitated anathemas upon himself and scowling ferociously at the two horses, which I had taken the opportunity to hitch to an adjacent gatepost.
At last in his restless tramping he seemed to become aware of me where I sat, for I had climbed back into the cart, and he now addressed me, though with his anxious gaze bent towards the unconscious form of his companion.
"Good God, man—this is pure damnation! If you can't do anything, since I can't do anything, can't you suggest something I can do?"
"Only that you strive for a little patience, sir."
At this he turned to stare at me, then his grey eyes widened suddenly, and he leapt at me with both hands outstretched.
"Vereker!" he cried. "Peregrine—Perry, by all that's wonderful."
"Anthony!" said I, as our hands gripped.
"Peregrine—O Perry, we—we were married—not an hour ago—Barbara and
I—and now—"