The Rainbow

When she had become blank and timeless he came, and she

slipped off her seat to him, like one come back from the dead.

He had sold his beast as quickly as he could. But all the

business was not finished. He took her again through the

hurtling welter of the cattle-market.

Then at last they turned and went out through the gate. He

was always hailing one man or another, always stopping to gossip

about land and cattle and horses and other things she did not

understand, standing in the filth and the smell, among the legs

and great boots of men. And always she heard the questions: "What lass is that, then? I didn't know tha'd one o' that

age."

"It belongs to my missis."

Anna was very conscious of her derivation from her mother, in

the end, and of her alienation.

But at last they were away, and Brangwen went with her into a

little dark, ancient eating-house in the Bridlesmith-Gate. They

had cow's-tail soup, and meat and cabbage and potatoes. Other

men, other people, came into the dark, vaulted place, to eat.

Anna was wide-eyed and silent with wonder.

Then they went into the big market, into the corn exchange,

then to shops. He bought her a little book off a stall. He loved

buying things, odd things that he thought would be useful. Then

they went to the "Black Swan", and she drank milk and he brandy,

and they harnessed the horse and drove off, up the Derby

Road.

She was tired out with wonder and marvelling. But the next

day, when she thought of it, she skipped, flipping her leg in

the odd dance she did, and talked the whole time of what had

happened to her, of what she had seen. It lasted her all the

week. And the next Saturday she was eager to go again.

She became a familiar figure in the cattle-market, sitting

waiting in the little booth. But she liked best to go to Derby.

There her father had more friends. And she liked the familiarity

of the smaller town, the nearness of the river, the strangeness

that did not frighten her, it was so much smaller. She liked the

covered-in market, and the old women. She liked the "George

Inn", where her father put up. The landlord was Brangwen's old

friend, and Anna was made much of. She sat many a day in the

cosy parlour talking to Mr. Wigginton, a fat man with red hair,

the landlord. And when the farmers all gathered at twelve

o'clock for dinner, she was a little heroine.

At first she would only glower or hiss at these strange men

with their uncouth accent. But they were good-humoured. She was

a little oddity, with her fierce, fair hair like spun glass

sticking out in a flamy halo round the apple-blossom face and

the black eyes, and the men liked an oddity. She kindled their

attention.