noon
George , a dhrop -- '' George shook his head . A smile was on his lips , and that smile had in it a quality of remoteness , as though it belonged to another sphere , and had strayed on to the lips of this man of the world against his will . He seemed trying to conquer it , to twist his face into its habitual shape , but , like the spirit of a strange force , the smile broke through . It had mastered him , his thoughts , his habits , and his creed ; he was stripped of fashion , as on a thirsty noon a man stands stripped for a cool plunge from which he hardly cares if he come up again . And this smile , not by intrinsic merit , but by virtue of its strangeness , attracted the eye of each man in the room ; so , in a crowd , the most foreign-looking face will draw all glances . The Reverend Husell Barter with a frown watched that smile , and strange thoughts chased through his mind . `` Uncle Charles , a dhrop of the craythur a wee dhrop of the craythur ? ''