Hazel clapped her hands to her mouth.
'There's no fiddler chap hereabouts, then?'
Abel rose and went to the door.
'If it's music you want, I know better music than fiddles, and that's harps,' he said. 'Saw! saw! The only time as ever I liked a fiddle was when the fellow snabbed at the strings with his ten fingers—despert-like.'
'Oh, damn you!' said Reddin. 'I didn't come to hear about harps.'
'If it's funerals or a forester's supper, a concert or a wedding,' Abel went on, quite undaunted, 'I'm your man.'
Reddin laughed.
'It might be the last,' he said.
'Wedding or bedding, either or both, I suppose,' said the publican, who was counted a wit.
Reddin gave a great roar of laughter.