Free Demelza by Winston Graham

bound about her head. Everyone looked to see how she would take it, but she pulled a face and laughed and meekly went forward and knelt on the cushion. Jud viewed the prospect with pleasure for a moment, then wiped his mouth slowly along the back of his sleeve.
    He kissed her with great relish, while all the young men in the room gave out a groan.
    Jud lingered on, but there suddenly came a great shout from Prudie, who could bear it no longer.
    'Leave go, yer great ox! No call to make a meal of 'er!'
    Jud hastily straightened up amid more shouts of laughter, and it was noticed that when he fell out of the ring he went back to his corner, which was a long way from his wife.
    After a bit the game finished and the dancing began again. From all this Mark Daniel had held aloof. He had always looked down on such prancing as effeminate (his was a silent, gaunt uncompromising maleness, unimpressionable and self-sufficient), but now he noticed that two or three of the actors, having finished their supper, were joining in.
    He could hold back no longer and risked an eight-handed reel, which needed no delicacy of step. Then, rubbing his chin and wishing he had shaved more carefully, he joined in a country dance. At the other end of the long line of people he saw the girl. Keren Smith they said her name was. He could not keep his eyes off her, and danced almost as if he did not see the people opposite him.
    And in some way the girl knew of his gaze. She never once looked at him, but there was something in her expression which told him she knew, a little self-conscious pursing of her young red lips, the way once or twice she pushed back her hair and tossed her head. Then he saw that for a second or two they would have to dance together. He stumbled and felt the sweat start. The moment was near, the next couple were dancing back to their places: he was off down the line, and she coming to meet him. They met, he grasped her hands, they danced round, her hair flying, she looked up once straight into his eyes; the look was blinding, dazzling; then they separated, he back to his place, she to hers. Her hands had been cool, but the palms of his were tingling as if they had met ice, met fire, been shocked by the touch. The dance was over. He walked solidly back to his corner. Other people about him were talking and laughing and did not notice any change. He sat down, wiped the sweat off his forehead and calloused hands, which were twice the size of hers and could have crushed them to pulp. He watched her covertly, hoping for another glance but not getting it. But women, he knew, could look without looking.
    He joined in nearly all the rest hoping that he might come near her again, but it did not happen. Nanfan's son, Joe Nanfan, who ought to have known better, had somehow got talking to her, and he and a wizened little man from the troop took her attention.
    Then the party began to break up. Before any grownups left, Zacky Martin, 'scholar' of the neighbourhood and father of Jinny, got up and said a little piece, about what a brave time they had had, one and all, and how they'd all eaten enough to last 'em a week and drunk enough to last 'em a fortnight and danced enough to last 'em a month. And how twas only fitty here and now to say thank you kindly for a handsome day and all the generosity, to Captain Poldark and Mistress Poldark, and Miss Verity Poldark, and to wish long life and prosperity to them and theirs, not forgetting Miss Julia, and might she grow up a pride to her father and mother as he was sure she would, and that was all he had to say except thank you kindly again and good night.
    Ross had them all served with a stiff glass of brandy and treacle. When they had drunk it he said, 'Your good wishes are of great value to me. I want Julia to grow up in this countryside as a daughter of mine and as a friend of yours. I want the land to be a part of her inheritance and friendship her earning from it. I give you our good wishes for the