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 leave was almost up. He had to return to Halifax with no hope of winning Grace, but, on this warm September night, sweet with the smells of land and lake, he was pensive rather than sad.

Fawnie began to press the muscles of Derek's arm with her fingers. "You could beat me very hard," she said. "But you won't, will you, darling? (A new word she had recently acquired, along with "Jolly good," and the phrase—"as a matter of fac) "You won't beat me, darling. You'll jus' give me a lot of money, and let Snailem drive me to Brancepeth, eh?"

Derek capitulated. "To-morrowTomorrow [sic] is Mr. Jerrold's sale. The men would like a holiday, and I expect Snailem would sooner drive to Brancepeth than go to the sale. Would twenty dollars do, Fawnie?"

She turned her eyes on him reproachfully. "My goodness, no. The baby carriage alone will cost fifteen dollars. And, you know, Durek, I never had no proper clothes when I married you. I got to buy them now. I'm the finest lady about here, now Grace Jerrold's got to move into a little old cottage. And she ain't married anyhow. Yes—I'm the finest lady between Brancepeth and Mistwell." She gazed at the golden moon, in blissful meditation. Then—"It will take fifty dollars."

"Very well," assented Derek. "You shall have it. But be careful what you buy. You sha'n't get any more money till winter, mind. And I shouldn't buy Buckskin pink kid shoes if I were you. I'd buy him nice little brown shoes and two or three pairs of socks to match. They'll suit him better."

"I'll buy him whatever looks the best. I need some scented soap, too, and a pair of pink silk shirred garters with buckles at the side."

Edmund groaned from his perch on the breakwater. "I