“I don’t want any of you, this busy,” she replied; but as she became suddenly conscious, her colour deepened, and her hair seemed startlingly fair against it. There was a rising hubbub outside in the market-place.
“Listen!” she cried; “here are more coming!” She drew away her hand swiftly and ran out. She returned with a pile of platters, and pushed at the door with her knee, steadied the platters, and guided the closing of the door with her foot, all in one busy gesture.
“They’re on from the ‘Fullers,’ shouting for supper.—Nay, not now, Arthur!—”
But he did not withdraw the arm he had placed about her, and his great red bear’s head was close to her cheek. “Will you, Cis?” he said, huskily.
“Oh, reach me that butter! Nay, I’ve knocked your hand.—Will I what?”
“Marry me——”
“Yes, yes—reach me another loaf from yon pot——”
“Oh, go, go! They’ll be in here in a minute. Another time—in the morning—go, and send Harry——”
The noise of steps was heard along the passage. He caught up his cap and started for the door, not wishing her to be found with him. Suddenly she stepped backward to the passage door, pushed the bolt, and lifted her head. He darted towards her. She gave him her cheek, pushed back the bolt at the same instant, and he disappeared as the door opened.