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Oak
moved
in
silence
back
to
his
original
seat
.
The
gentleman
-
farmer
was
dressed
in
cheerful
style
,
in
a
new
coat
and
white
waistcoat
,
quite
contrasting
with
his
usual
sober
suits
of
grey
.
Inwardy
,
too
,
he
was
blithe
,
and
consequently
chatty
to
an
exceptional
degree
.
So
also
was
Bathsheba
now
that
he
had
come
,
though
the
uninvited
presence
of
Pennyways
,
the
bailiff
who
had
been
dismissed
for
theft
,
disturbed
her
equanimity
for
a
while
.
Supper
being
ended
,
Coggan
began
on
his
own
private
account
,
without
reference
to
listeners
:
—
I
’
ve
lost
my
love
,
and
I
care
not
,
I
’
ve
lost
my
love
,
and
I
care
not
;
I
shall
soon
have
another
That
’
s
better
than
t
’
other
;
I
’
ve
lost
my
love
,
and
I
care
not
.
This
lyric
,
when
concluded
,
was
received
with
a
silently
appreciative
gaze
at
the
table
,
implying
that
the
performance
,
like
a
work
by
those
established
authors
who
are
independent
of
notices
in
the
papers
,
was
a
well
-
known
delight
which
required
no
applause
.
"
Now
,
Master
Poorgrass
,
your
song
!
"
said
Coggan
.
