"What ye want?" he asked.
"She's yours for a tenner, sir."
He stiffened his lips.
Boy walked sedately past her father.
"Pound a leg," she said quietly in his ear.
"Four pound," said the old man, firmly. "Cash down—and accommodation."
He rustled the bank-notes in his pocket.
The gypsy frowned, and appeared to be engaged in a portentous spiritual struggle. Then the clouds cleared suddenly.
"Done with you, sir!" he called, and hauled the old mare down the widening lane through the crowd. She came reluctantly, every inch of her resenting the necessity for motion.
Old Mat paid out five sovereigns into the other's outstretched paw.