Could Trantridge in two or three short hours have
metamorphosed itself thus madly!
Some Sileni of the throng sat on benches and hay-trusses by the wall;
and one of them recognized her.
"The maids don't think it respectable to dance at The Flower-de-Luce,"
he explained. "They don't like to let everybody see which be their
fancy-men. Besides, the house sometimes shuts up just when their
jints begin to get greased. So we come here and send out for
liquor."
"But when be any of you going home?" asked Tess with some anxiety.
"Now--a'most directly. This is all but the last jig."
She waited. The reel drew to a close, and some of the party were in
the mind of starting. But others would not, and another dance was
formed. This surely would end it, thought Tess. But it merged in
yet another. She became restless and uneasy; yet, having waited so
long, it was necessary to wait longer; on account of the fair the
roads were dotted with roving characters of possibly ill intent; and,
though not fearful of measurable dangers, she feared the unknown.
Had she been near Marlott she would have had less dread.
"Don't ye be nervous, my dear good soul," expostulated, between his
coughs, a young man with a wet face and his straw hat so far back
upon his head that the brim encircled it like the nimbus of a saint.
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