"I do," said she, after glancing at her husband's face and seeing no
repentance there.

"Very well, she shall have the child, and the bargain's complete," said
the trusser. He took the sailor's notes and deliberately folded them,
and put them with the shillings in a high remote pocket, with an air of
finality.

The sailor looked at the woman and smiled. "Come along!" he said kindly.
"The little one too--the more the merrier!" She paused for an instant,
with a close glance at him. Then dropping her eyes again, and saying
nothing, she took up the child and followed him as he made towards the
door. On reaching it, she turned, and pulling off her wedding-ring,
flung it across the booth in the hay-trusser's face.

"Mike," she said, "I've lived with thee a couple of years, and had
nothing but temper! Now I'm no more to 'ee; I'll try my luck elsewhere.
'Twill be better for me and Elizabeth-Jane, both. So good-bye!"

Seizing the sailor's arm with her right hand, and mounting the little
girl on her left, she went out of the tent sobbing bitterly.

A stolid look of concern filled the husband's face, as if, after all, he
had not quite anticipated this ending; and some of the guests laughed.

"Is she gone?" he said.

"Faith, ay! she's gone clane enough," said some rustics near the door.