It happened before my father's tent, the tent of Lemuel Fawe.

There you and I were sealed before our Romany folk.

For three thousand pounds which my father gave to your father, you--" With a swift gesture she stopped him.

Walking close up to him, she looked him full in the eyes.

There was a contemptuous pride in her face which forced him to lower his eyelids sulkily.
He would have understood a torrent of words--to him that would have regulated the true value of the situation; but this disdainful composure embarrassed him.