Almost simultaneously they burst out laughing. “Hi John. ‘Good God! Everett Charvill, as I live. It’s all nonsense. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. Ramage admitted the force of that. Pews had been brought in and set in two rows before the huge table, covered in white cloth, that formed the altar at the far end. Run away now, please. He is all kindness, and will overlook them for your poor father's sake —for mine. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword.
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