Wolf had grown weary by this time of the whole discussion. He took advantage of the darkness to transfer from his own pocket to that of this fellow wrongdoer at least twice as much as he was demanding.

“Come on,” he said, when the clandestine transaction was accomplished, “let’s get back to the Blacksod road before we’re completely benighted!”

He rose and moved on between them, Lob in penitent and rather shamefaced silence carrying the great wicker-basket, at the bottom of which reposed a few fading marigolds and some handfuls of watercress.

The excitement of climbing over the railings at the very edge of the riverbank, and the pride she took in being able to show her power of guiding her lover through the darkened fields, quickly restored Gerda’s good-humour.