DEACON ROBERTS. [Unaccustomed to being spoken to this way by a woman.] Well, indeed, mum, I could stay, but I'm thinkin' 'tis cold an'—I'd better go.
NELI. [Again savagely.] Nay, stay! Stay for—for what ye came for whatever!
[Neli looks challengingly at the Deacon. Then she goes on wiping brine carefully from husband's hair and from behind his ears. The Deacon coughs and pushes bowl away with the toe of his boot.
DEACON ROBERTS. [Smiling.] 'Tis unnecessary to remain then, mum.
NELI. [To Hugh.] What did he get?
HUGH. [Sneezing.] N—n—Achoo!—nothin'!
DEACON ROBERTS. [With sudden interest, looking at the floor.] Well, indeed!
NELI. [Suspiciously.] What is it?
[He reaches down with difficulty to a small thick puddle on the floor just beneath his left coat-tail. He aims a red forefinger at it, lifts himself, and sucks fingertip.
DEACON ROBERTS. [Smiling.] Ahem, Mrs. Williams, mum, 'tis excellent herrin' brine! [From the basket on the counter he picks up an egg, which he tosses lightly and replaces in basket.] A beautiful fresh egg, Mrs. Williams, mum. I must be steppin' homewards.