Zillah, the girl, said, "An' me? I'm a single girl--and no one but 'im
to look after--I ought to have him."

"Hold your tongue!"

"Shut your mouth!"

"Don't you show me no more of your imperence!"

Everyone was getting very angry. The dark gipsy faces were frowning and
anxious-looking. Suddenly a change swept over them, as if some invisible
sponge had wiped away these cross and anxious expressions, and left only
a blank.

The children saw that the sun really _had_ set. But they were afraid to
move. And the gipsies were feeling so muddled because of the invisible
sponge that had washed all the feelings of the last few hours out of
their hearts, that they could not say a word.

The children hardly dared to breathe. Suppose the gipsies, when they
recovered speech, should be furious to think how silly they had been all
day?

It was an awkward moment. Suddenly Anthea, greatly daring, held out the
Lamb to the red-handkerchief man.

"Here he is!" she said.

The man drew back. "I shouldn't like to deprive you, miss," he said
hoarsely.