he band, like any low servant
girl on her evening out--My! but she'd have given it to Mene Tekel if
she dared behave so! At other times she drifted on a dark sweet river of
thought ... every detail of the boy's appearance haunted her with
disturbing charm--his eyes, black and soft like Martin's--his mouth
which was coarser and sulkier than Martin's, yet made her feel all
disquieted ... the hair which rolled like Martin's hair from his
forehead--dear hair she used to tug.... Oh, he's the man I could
love--he's my sort--he's the kind I like.... And I don't even know his
name.... But he talks like Martin--knows all about old places when they
were new--queer he should talk about them floods.... Romney Church, you
can see the marks on the pillars.... I can't bear to think of that.... I
wonder what he'll say when he comes to-morrow?--Maybe he'll find me too
old--I'm ten year older than him if I'm a day.... I must dress myself up
smart--I'm glad I brought my purple body.... Martin liked me in the old
basket hat I fed the fowls in ... but I was slimmer then.... I'm getting
on now ... he won't like me as well by daylight as he did in the
dark--and properly I'll deserve it, carrying on like that. I've half a
mind not to be in--I'll leave a polite message, saying "Miss Godden's
compliments, but she's had to go home, owing to one of her cows having a
miscarriage." I'll be wise to go home to-morrow--reckon I ain't fit to
be trusted alone.

But a quarter to one the next day saw her in all the splendour of her
"purple body," standing before her mirror, trying to make up her mind
whether to wear her big hat or her little one. The little hat was
smarter and had cost more money, but the big hat put a becoming shadow
over her eyes, and hid those little lines that were straying from the
corners.... For the first time Joanna had begun to realize that clothes
should have other qualities besides mere splendour. Hitherto she had
never thought of clothes in any definite relation to herself, as
enhancing, veiling, suggesting, or softening the beauty which was Joanna
Godden. But to-day she chose warily--her hat for shadow, her shoes for
grace, her amber necklace because she must have that touch of barbarism
which suited her best--an unconscious process this--and her amber
earrings, because they matched her necklace, and because in the mirror
she could see the brighter colours of her hair swinging in them. At the
last minute she changed her "purpl