Smarting from his mother's words, he had wanted Miss Carmichael to notice him, the oldest son of Mary Carson's heir, but she had not so much as deigned to admit he existed. All her attention had been focused on the priest, a being sexless and emasculated. Even if he was tall, dark and handsome. "Don't worry, she'll be back for more of the same," said Father Ralph cynically. "She's rich, so next Sunday she'll very ostentatiously put a ten-pound note in the plate." He laughed at Frank's expression. "I'm not so much older than you, my son, but in spite of my calling I'm a very worldly fellow. Don't hold it against me; just put it down to experience." They had left the riding ring behind and entered the amusement part of the grounds. To Meggie and Frank alike it was enchantment. Father Ralph had given Meggie five whole shillings, and Frank had his five pounds; to own the price of admission to all those enticing booths was wonderful. Crowds thronged the area, children running everywhere, gazing wide-eyed at the luridly and somewhat inexpertly painted legends fronting tattered tents: The Fattest Lady in the World; Princess Houri the Snake Dancer (see Her Fan the Flames of a Cobra's Rage!); The India Rubber Man; Goliath the World's Strongest Man; Thetis the Mermaid. At each they paid their pennies and watched raptly, not noticing Thetis's sadly tarnished scales or the toothless smile on the cobra. At the far end, so big it required a whole side for itself, was a giant marquee with a high boardwalk along its front, a curtainlike frieze of painted figures stretching behind the entire length of the board bridge, menacing the crowd. A man with a megaphone in his hand was shouting to the gathering people.

"Here it is, gents, Jimmy Sharman's famous boxing troupe! Eight of the world's greatest prize fighters, and a purse to be won by any chap game to have a go!"Women and girls were trickling out of the audience as fast as men and boys came from every direction to swell it, clustering thickly beneath the boardwalk. As solemnly as gladiators parading at the Circus Maximus, eight men filed onto the bridge and stood, bandaged hands on hips, legs apart, swaggering at the admiring oohs of the crowd.