He fetched it and sat down by her on an orange-box.
'Now look here,' he said, 'fair and square, will you marry me?'
He was surprised at himself.
Andrew Vessons, who had tiptoed after them from the tent, spread out his hands and gazed at heaven with a look of supreme despair, all the more intense because he could not speak. He returned desolately to the tent, where he stood with a cynical smile, leaning a little forward with his arms behind him, watching the dancing, an apotheosis of sex, to him not only silly and pitiful, but disgusting. Now and then he shook his head, went to the door to see if his master was coming, and shook it again. A friend came up.
'Why did the gaffer muck up the race?' he asked.
'Why,' asked Vessons, with a far-off gaze, 'did 'Im as made the 'orld put women in?'
Outside things were going more to his liking than he knew.
'What's the good of keeping on, Mr. Reddin? I told 'ee I was promised to Ed'ard.'
'But you like me a bit? Better than the parson?'
'I dunno.'