Edward, in a sudden passion that startled her, threw the jam-dish across the room. It made a red splash on the wall. Mrs. Marston stopped chumbling her toast, and remained with the rotary motions of her mouth in abeyance. Then she said slowly:
'Your poor father always said, dear, that you'd break out some day. And you have. The best dish! Of course the jam I say little about; jam is but jam, after all; but the cut-glass dish—!'
'Can't you go on with the tale, mother?'
'Yes, my dear, yes. But you fluster me like the Silverton Cheap-jack does; I never can buy the dish he holds up, for I get in such a fluster for fear he'll break it, and then he does. And now you have.'
Edward pushed back his chair in desperation.
'For pity's sake!' he said.
'I'm telling you. I never thought Hazel was steadfast, you know.'
'Where is she? Why will you torment me?'
'An old man came. A very untrustworthy old man, I fear. A defiant manner, and that is never pleasant. There he was in the kitchen with Martha! Age is no barrier to wrong, and Martha was very flushed. There was a deal of laughter, too.'
'Mother! If you keep on like this, I shall go mad.'