Philip was holding Jem-y-Lord's paper before his eyes, and trying to read it. "What's this that Jemmy has given me?" he said. "Read it, Pete. My eyes are dazed." Pete took the paper in his left hand, still holding the glass in his right. To get the light on to the writing he went down on his knees by the bed-head and leaned over towards the fire.
And then his reverence leaned across the driver and directed the shaft of his wit at Philip. "And how's the young housekeeper, Deemster?" Philip shuddered visibly, and made some inarticulate reply "Good-looking young woman, they're telling me. Jem-y-Lord's got taste, seemingly. But take care, your Honour; take care! 'Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's wife, nor his ox, nor his ass' "