She saw that he was displeased and drew closer to him, slipping her arms round his neck, so that he could feel the roughness of her work-worn hands against it.
"I'm not shocked—only it's so wonderful—I can't abear talking of it ... Martin, if we had one ... I should just about die of joy ..."
He gripped her to him silently, unable to speak. Somehow it seemed as if he had just seen deeper into Joanna than during all the rest of his courtship. He moved his lips over her bright straying hair—her face was hidden in his sleeve.
"Then we'll stop at Mr. Pratt's on our way home and ask him to put up the banns at once?"
"Oh no—" lifting herself sharply—"I didn't mean that."
"Why not?"
"Well, it won't make any difference to our marriage, being married three weeks later—but it'll make an unaccountable difference to my wool prices if the shearers don't do their job proper—and then there's the hay."
"On the contrary, child—it will make a difference to our marriage. We shall have started with Ansdore between us."
"What nonsense."
"Well, I can't argue with you—you must do as you like. My wife is a very strong-willed person, who will keep her husband in proper order. But he loves her enough to bear it."