"Not me!" he answered, feeling his chin in gentle, tentative fashion. "I'm jolted sufficient an' the ground's danged 'ard 'ereabouts! An' wot's more--why, burn my neck--it's Anna!" he broke off and pointed with stubby finger. Turning about, I beheld Diana on the other side of the hedge. And she was looking at me! "Ha, well done, Peregrine!" she exclaimed; at which, and because of the expression in her eyes, I felt again that strange sense of joyous exhilaration which had thrilled me once before, insomuch that I felt almost sorry the combat was ended so soon. Then, before I might aid her, she was through the hedge and shaking my hand as a man might have done. "Lord love me!" ejaculated the Peddler, scrambling to his feet. "So you've turned into a Eve at last, 'ave yer, Anna? You as couldn't abide a man! An' 'ere you be in a nice little garden o' Eden along o' your Adam, eh? Found yourself a lad at last for kissy-cuddly, eh? You as was so prim! What'll folks say when I tell 'em?" "That you'm a liar, Gabbing Dick, as big a liar as ever you was." "When I tells folk as Anna's took up wi' a lad at last--an' 'im such a whipper-snapper! When I tell 'em as 'ow you--" "That's enough!" cried I passionately. "Take your things and go before I endeavour to kill you--" "Lord, Peregrine!" said Diana, viewing me in big-eyed wonder. "'T is only Gabbing Dick, and he must talk dirt, but nobody minds." "Well, I do, and if he doesn't depart immediately--" "Depart's th' word!" nodded the Peddler, and taking up his pack he adjusted it, shouldered his brooms and then paused to spit thoughtfully. "What'll folk say when I tell 'em as I see you kissy-cuddlin' a whipper-snapper--" Clenching my fists I took a step towards him; saw him shrink away, staring, not at me, but the knife in Diana's hand. "Hop, Dick, hop!" said she, making the blade flash and glitter evilly, whereupon the fellow, clutching his wares, made off with sudden alacrity; but being at a distance he stopped and turned. "I 'opes," he cried, "I do 'ope as your Adam tires o' ye an' leaves ye despairin'--danged soon, an' that's for you, Anna! An' I 'opes as she pokes out both your eyes for ye--both on 'em, mind--an' that's for you, young whipper-snapper!" Then he spat towards us, nodded, and hasted off along the road. "And now, let's have dinner!" said Diana. "Dinner?" I repeated, frowning after my late antagonist. "Beef, Peregrine!" CHAPTER XX OF THE TONGUE OF A WOMAN AND THE FEET OF A GODDESS Roast beef is now, has been, and probably will be, long acclaimed and proclaimed by every true-born Englishman as his own peculiar diet; _vide_ the old song: "When mighty Roast Beef was the Englishman's food It ennobled our hearts and enriched our blood. O the Roast Beef of Old England And O for old England's Roast Beef!" By long association and assimilation it has become, as it were, a national asset, a very part and parcel of the British constitution.