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FORE:There was no doubt that Joe Dansay had got drunk at Willie Tailleur's wedding. The fact was cruelly emphasised by the headache with which he woke up the next morning. He thought it very hard luck, for after all, he had not got nearly so drunk as he might have, as he often had. However, he had been forced into abstinence by a long voyage from Sierra Leone, and put down his sufferings to nature's mutiny at such an unwholesome state of affairs.He wanted to smash Tilly even more than he wanted to smash Realf. He had seen her twice since her marriage��meeting her once in Rye, and once on Boarzell��and each sight had worked him into a greater rage. Her little figure had strengthened and filled out, her demure self-confidence had increased, her prettiness was even more adorable now that the rose had deepened on her cheeks and her gowns strained over her breast; she was enough to fill any man with wrath at the joke of[Pg 237] things. Tilly ought to be receiving the wages of her treachery in weariness and anxiety, fading colour and withering flesh��and here she was all fat and rosy and happy, well-fed and well-beloved. He hated her and called her a harlot��because she had betrayed Odiam for hire and trafficked in its shame.