“Things do happen in a few minutes,” she said mysteriously. “Why, I might have come back and bought up the whole show.” She waved her horn comprehensively over the horses. “What rubbish you do talk!” he said impatiently. “Do I?” She fired up. “There’s others think differently.” “If they think differently, it’s because they think lightly of you.” “Lightly, indeed!” “Yes—they do. To drag you into an indecent sale-room!” “Indecent?” She flushed, wondering if Will had seen that circumambient arm. “It’s all indecent—all that talk about heifers. I don’t wonder you blush.” She laughed, relieved. “I’m blushing for you. You do talk such rubbish!” “There you go with your cheek!” “It’s only what you just said to me.” “I said it because you do talk rubbish.” “And you talk rubbish in saying it.” “Well, go to those who talk sense, Miss Boldero!” And he pulled out his pipe and matches with a symbolic gesture. “What an obstinate creature you are, Will!” “Me obstinate! Why, ain’t it your obstinacy that keeps you here, when I’m ready to do your job?” “I told you I preferred to do my own jobs.” And with that she went straight up to the black hackneys, and while Will puffed volcanically, she learnedly examined their teeth through tear-misted eyes that saw neither incisors nor age-marks. Then, after carefully prodding their ribs and punching and poking them about, as she had seen purchasers do with bullocks, she swept haughtily towards the auction arena, but afraid of encountering the farmer, she hovered uncertainly on the threshold, feeling like a bundle of straw between two donkeys. Gradually she realized, and with enhanced resentment, that _she_ was the donkey; that both these men had deceived her in representing the cattle-arena as the selling-place for the horses. By the crowd that began to accumulate round the horses, and to blot out the patient sentinel, as the hour for their sale approached, it became plain that they would be sold where they were tied, and presently the motley crowd, swollen by many of the cattle-auctioneer’s audience, thrilled with the coming of this heavy-jowled worthy, who had not turned a hair of his neatly combed chevelure. The biddings were not brisk. To Jinny’s joy only the heavier animals, the plough-horses and the cart-horses, seemed in demand; the cobs and the ponies went for a song. The sable steeds she had selected as the only suitable ones came late—most of the animals had been released from their staples and led off by their new masters. To her dismay the hackneys were put up as a pair, and all her pride seemed falling into ruin. Fortunately, not provoking a bid, they were then put up separately, and Jinny set the ball rolling for the first with a brazen offer of ten pounds.