He glanced behind him, but the woman had gone.
"All sorts of things. I'm to have a golden crown—and a castle somewhere. In Spain, I should think!"
"Well, come along now—they've gone to the swings."
He slipped a hand through his little friend's arm. "Let me carry that cocoanut. Did you win it, Jill?" But the girl refused, guarding her treasure.
They crossed the trodden grass, damp with the dew, to where a row of booths with poisonous-looking sweets, cheap ribands and laces and ginger-bread "snaps" had attracted the usual pairs of village lovers.
"Buy yer lidy a fairing!" A shrill voice hailed them—"a pretty brooch now—a bracelet?—a ring? Come now, young sir—yer 'and in yer pocket!—there's yer sweet'art waitin' ... the price of a kiss!"
McTaggart laughed back with a side glance at Jill.
"Would you like a fairing?" His eyes ran over the stall.
"Have a ring with 'Mizpah'?—Let's buy one for Stephen."
But the girl shook her head, with a gesture of annoyance.