Chook and Pinkey reached the markets by the first workman's tram in the morning.As the rain had set in,Chook had thrown the chaff-bags over his shoulders,and Pinkey wore an old jacket that she was ashamed to wear in the daytime.By her colour you could tell that they had been quarrelling as usual,because she had insisted on coming with Chook to carry one of the chaff-bags.And now,as she came into the light of the arcades,she looked like a half-drowned sparrow.The rain dripped from her hat,and the shabby thin skirt clung to her legs like a wet dishcloth.Chook looked at her with rage in his heart.These trips to the market always rolled his pride in the mud,the pride of the male who is willing to work his fingers to the bone to provide his mate with fine plumage.
The cares of the shop had told on Pinkey's looks,for the last two years spent with Chook's mother had been like a long honeymoon,and Pinkey had led the life of a lady,with nothing to do but scrub and wash and help Chook's mother keep her house like a new pin.So she had grown plump and pert like a well-fed sparrow,but the care and worry of the new shop had sharpened the angles of her body.Not that Pinkey cared.She had the instinct for property,the passionate desire to call something her own,an instinct that lay dormant and undeveloped while she lived among other people's belongings.Moreover,she had discovered a born talent for shopkeeping.With her natural desire to please,she enchanted the customers,welcoming them with a special smile,and never forgetting to remember that it was Mrs Brown's third child that had the measles,and that Mrs Smith's case puzzled the doctors.They only wanted a horse and cart,so that she could mind the shop while Chook went hawking about the streets,and their fortunes were made.But this morning the rain and Chook's temper had damped her spirits,and she looked round with dismay on the cold,silent arcades,recalling with a passionate longing the same spaces transformed by night into the noisy,picturesque bazaar through which she had been accustomed to saunter as an idler walks the block on a Saturday morning.
Pinkey waited,shivering in a corner,while Chook did the buying.He walked along the stalls,eyeing the sellers and their goods with the air of a freebooter,for,as he always had more impudence than cash,he was a redoubtable customer.There was always a touch of comedy in Chook's buying,and the Chinamen knew and dreaded him,instantly on the defensive,guarding their precious cabbages against his predatory fingers,while Chook parted with his shillings as cheerfully as a lioness parts with her cubs.A pile of superb cauliflowers caught his eye.
"'Ow muchee?"he inquired.
"Ten shilling,"replied the Chinaman.
"Seven an'six,"answered Chook,promptly.
"No fear,"replied the seller,relapsing into Celestial gravity and resuming his dream of fan-tan and opium.
Chook walked the length of the arcade and then came back.These were the pick of the market,and he must have them.Suddenly he pushed a handful of silver into the Chinaman's hand and began to fill his bag with the cauliflowers.With a look of suspicion the seller counted the money in his hand;there were only eight shillings.
"'Ere,me no take you money,"cried he,frantic with rage,trying to push the silver into Chook's hand.And then Chook overwhelmed him with a torrent of words,swearing that he had taken the money and made a sale.
The Chinaman hesitated and was lost.
"All li,you no pickum,"he said,sullenly.
"No fear!"said Chook,grabbing the largest he could see.
In the next arcade he bought a dozen of rhubarb,Chin Lung watching him suspiciously as he counted them into the bag.
"You gottum more'n a dozen,"he cried.
"What a lie!"cried Chook,with a stare of outraged virtue.
"I'll push yer face in if yer say I pinched yer rotten stuff,"and he emptied the rhubarb out of the bag,dexterously kicking the thirteenth bunch under the stall.
"Now are yez satisfied?"he cried,and began counting the bunches into the bag two by two.As the Chinaman watched sharply,he stooped to move a cabbage that he was standing on,and instantly Chook whipped in two bunches without counting.
"Twelve,"said Chook,with a look of indignation."I 'ope ye're satisfied:
I am."
When the bags were full,Pinkey was blue with the cold,and the dawn had broken,dull and grey,beneath the pitiless fall of rain.It was no use waiting for such rain to stop,and they quarrelled again because Chook insisted that she should wait in the markets till he went home with one chaff-bag and came back for the other.Each bag,bulging with vegetables,was nearly the size of Pinkey,but the expert in moving furniture was not to be dismayed by that.She ended the dispute by seizing a bag and trudging out into the rain,bent double beneath the load,leaving Chook to curse and follow.
Halfway through breakfast Pinkey caught Chook's eye fixed on her in a peculiar manner.
"Wot are yez thinkin'about?"she asked,with a smile.
"Well,if yer want ter know,I'm thinkin'wot a fool I was to marry yer,"said Chook,bitterly.
A cold wave swept over Pinkey.It flashed through her mind that he was tired of her;that he thought she wasn't strong enough to do her share of the work.Well,she could take poison or throw herself into the harbour.
"Ah!"she said,cold as a stone."Anythin'else?""I mean,"said Chook,stumbling for words,"I ought to 'ave 'ad more sense than ter drag yez out of a good 'ome ter come 'ere an'work like a bus 'orse.""Is that all?"inquired Pinkey.
"Yes;wot did yer think?"said Chook,miserably."It fair gives me the pip ter see yer 'umpin'a sack round the stalls,when I wanted ter make yer 'appy an'comfortable."Pinkey took a long breath of relief.She needn't drown herself,then,he wasn't tired of her.
