“He made me forget. He made me remember I was a woman. No man’s ever spoken to me as he spoke.”
“He’s a clever fellow to make you forget the esplanade and Lottie.”
“Now you’re angry,” she laughed, and snuggled closer.
We entered the old marketplace of Yarminster where the Fair was being held. Leaving our horse at The Anchor to be baited, we threaded our way between booths and whirligo-rounds. Presently I heard a familiar cry, “Two shies a penny. Two shies a penny. Every ball ’its a cocoanut. Down she goes. Walk up. Walk up. Two shies a penny.”
Dodging up and down behind the pitch, was G’liath, not much altered. The gaudy woman was absent; it was Lilith who was serving out the balls to the country bumpkins.
“Here’s Ruthita,” I said. “You remember the little girl in the Forest?”
She went on catching the wooden balls which G’liath returned to her. Trade was busy. Between reiterating his call, she conversed with us.
“I remember. (Two shies a penny). It doesn’t seem long ago. (Every ball ’its a cocoanut. Walk up). How long is it?”
“The best part of fourteen years.”
It was difficult to carry on a conversation under the circumstances.