"It's marrying we're after--could
you fit this here young woman with a ring?" he added, and he took Bet's
hand in his.
A tray of wedding rings was placed on the counter--they were all
second-hand, and some of them much the worse for wear.
Will made his selection, choosing a fairly solid gold band. He slipped
the ring into his pocket, smiled into Bet's anxious eyes, and taking
out his bank-notes, spread them on the counter.
"You'll oblige me with change for these, Mr. Higgins?" he said. "See,
it's a nice tidy little lot of money, ain't it? But it comes in handy;
for a feller ain't wed every day of the week."
"It air a lot of money," said Higgins, in a contemplative tone. He
took up the notes, and fingered them, feeling their texture and looking
at the backs. "It _air_ a tidy lot of money," he repeated, and he looked
keenly into Will's honest face.
For all his bronzing the color would easily mount into this young
sailor's cheeks-it did so now, and he spoke with a little offence.
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