I know nothing, sir, outside eight shillings a week."
"And that Mr. Farfrae is well aware of it? He's sharp in trade, but he
wouldn't do anything so underhand as what you hint at."
Whether because Lucetta heard this low dialogue, or not her white
figure disappeared from her doorway inward, and the door was shut before
Henchard could reach it to converse with her further. This disappointed
him, for he had been sufficiently disturbed by what the man had said to
wish to speak to her more closely. While pausing the old constable came
up.
"Just see that nobody drives against that hay and waggon to-night,
Stubberd," said the corn-merchant. "It must bide till the morning, for
all hands are in the field still. And if any coach or road-waggon wants
to come along, tell 'em they must go round by the back street, and be
hanged to 'em....Any case tomorrow up in Hall?"
"Yes, sir. One in number, sir."
"Oh, what's that?"
"An old flagrant female, sir, swearing and committing a nuisance in a
horrible profane manner against the church wall, sir, as if 'twere no
more than a pot-house! That's all, sir."
"Oh. The Mayor's out o' town, isn't he?"
"He is, sir."
"Very well, then I'll be there. Don't forget to keep an eye on that hay.
Good night t' 'ee."
During those moments Henchard had determined to follow up Lucetta
notwithstanding her elusiveness, and he knocked for admission.
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