“Here’s that tobacco pouch I promised you,” she said. “Here it is, if you’re not too proud.”
He did not take it, but answered, “A tobacco pouch? I never use that sort of thing.”
“Oh, is that so?” said she, and drew back her hand.
And he forced himself to soften her again. “It can’t be me you promised it. Think again; perhaps it was the priest. And he’s a married man.”
She did not understand that the slight jest had cost him some effort, and she could not refrain from answering in turn, “I saw the ladies up along the road; I suppose that’s where you’ve been, trailing after them?”
“And what’s that to do with you?”
“Ove!”
“Why don’t you go away somewhere else? You can see for yourself it’s no good going on like this.”
“It would be all right as ever, if only you weren’t such a jewel to go flaunting about with all the womenfolk.”