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Updated: May 15, 2025
The party did not break up till eleven, having spent five hours standing squeezed like herrings under the Ansdore beams, eating and drinking and talking, to the strains of "The Blue Danube" and "See Me Dance the Polka."
It pleased her to think that the looker who is always the principal man on a farm such as Ansdore, where sheep-rearing is the main business deferred to her openly, before the other hands, spoke to her with drawling respect, and for ever followed her with his humble eyes. She liked to feel those eyes upon her.
You can leave Ansdore any day you choose." "Not when the shearing's on. You don't understand, Martin I can't have all the shearers up and nobody to look after 'em." "What about your looker? or Broadhurst? You don't trust anybody but yourself." "You're just about right I don't." "Don't you trust me?" "Not to shear sheep." Martin laughed ruefully. "You're very sensible, Joanna unshakably so.
Not that he and Joanna talked of light and graceful things ... they talked, after spades and harness, of horses and sheep, and of her ideas on breaking up grass, which was to be a practical scheme at Ansdore that spring in spite of the neighbours, of the progress of the new light railway from Lydd to Appledore, of the advantages and disadvantages of growing lucerne.
"Pluck makes a woman think she can do without a man," continued Vennal, "when everyone knows, and it's in Scripture, that she can't. Now Joanna Godden should ought to have married drackly minute Thomas Godden died and left her Ansdore, instead of which she's gone on plunging like a heifer till she must be past eight and twenty as I calculate " "Now, now, Mr.
Joanna was valiant for notions.... Alce had had one glass of champagne. At about four o'clock, Joanna dashed into the circle round the bride, and took Ellen away upstairs, to put on her travelling dress of saxe-blue satin the last humiliation she would have to endure from Ansdore.
Never mind he would have more time to give to the beloved pursuit of exploring the secret, shy marsh country he would do all Joanna's business afield, in the far market towns of New Romney and Dymchurch, and the farms away in Kent or under the Coast at Ruckinge and Warhorne. Meanwhile he spent a great deal of his time at Ansdore.
Also she found more fault with the beauties of Ansdore's best parlour than the rigours of its kitchen; there lay the sting her revolt was not against the toils and austerities of the farm's life but against its glories and comelinesses. She despised Ansdore for its very splendours, just as she despised her sister's best clothes more than her old ones.
Once again Ansdore was failing her, as it always failed her in any crisis of emotion Ansdore could never be big enough to fill her heart.
Some neighbours were evidently offended, especially those who had sons to mate. Mrs. Vine had been very stiff when Ellen called with Alce. "Well, Arthur" ignoring the bride-to-be "I always felt certain you would marry Ansdore, but it was the head I thought you'd take and not the tail." "Oh, the tail's good enough for me," said Arthur, which Ellen thought clumsy of him.
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