“After what?”
Silence once more.
“Can’t you speak?”
“Eh-h! There was a turkey, or something of that like ... I don’t rightly mind what it was ... or maybe the mutton came first....”
“Anything else?”
“There was honey; only ’twas in the comb....”
“My stars! The landlord’ll bring me in a fine bill for that! Is that all? Ah, no, the porridge!”
“No, no, the porridge come arter that.”
The deacon flung down the abacus, and, plunging his hands into his pockets, began to pace the room. The peasant moved away to the corner, so as not to disturb him.
Presently the innkeeper came in.