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All the while there could be heard the characteristic, imperious voice of one Crich woman or another calling 'Helen, come here a minute, 'Marjory, I want you here. 'Oh, I say, Mrs Witham . There was a great rustling of skirts, swift glimpses of smartly-dressed women, a child danced through the hall and back again, a maidservant came and went hurriedly.
"Gentlemen, there I rest my case. You will forget the wife and the child, and call to mind the 'frisking, and Crich fair. But to put the matter beyond a doubt we will call the defendant again, and put a few questions to him." The court crier called, but it was in vain. Johnny Darbyshire was no longer there. As he had said, "he had left it wi' 'em," and was gone.
'Winifred tells me the doctor had something to say about your father. What is it? 'Only that the pulse is very weak misses altogether a good many times so that he might not last the night out, Gerald replied. Mrs Crich sat perfectly impassive, as if she had not heard. Her bulk seemed hunched in the chair, her fair hair hung slack over her ears.
Gudrun knew that it was a critical thing for her to go to Shortlands. She knew it was equivalent to accepting Gerald Crich as a lover. And though she hung back, disliking the condition, yet she knew she would go on. She equivocated. She said to herself, in torment recalling the blow and the kiss, 'after all, what is it? What is a kiss? What even is a blow? It is an instant, vanished at once.
And the two men turned together up the path. Birkin was as thin as Mr Crich, pale and ill-looking. His figure was narrow but nicely made. He went with a slight trail of one foot, which came only from self-consciousness. Although he was dressed correctly for his part, yet there was an innate incongruity which caused a slight ridiculousness in his appearance.
It's nice to know what those that's in it feel. But opinions vary, don't they? Mr Crich up at Highclose is all for it. Ay, poor man, I'm afraid he's not long for this world. He's very poorly. 'Is he worse? asked Ursula. 'Eh, yes since they lost Miss Diana. He's gone off to a shadow. Poor man, he's had a world of trouble. 'Has he? asked Gudrun, faintly ironic. 'He has, a world of trouble.
Kick, and scream, and struggle like a demon. Many's the time I've pinched his little bottom for him, when he was a child in arms. Ay, and he'd have been better if he'd had it pinched oftener. But she wouldn't have them corrected no-o, wouldn't hear of it. I can remember the rows she had with Mr Crich, my word.
He heard the Pussum's voice saying: 'Go and get it back from her. I never heard of such a thing! Go and get it back from her. Tell Gerald Crich there he goes go and make him give it up. Gudrun stood at the door of the taxi, which the man held open for her. 'To the hotel? she asked, as Gerald came out, hurriedly. 'Where you like, he answered. 'Right! she said.
'What shall I say, then? asked Loerke, with soft, mocking insinuation. 'Sagen Sie nur nicht das, she muttered, her cheeks flushed crimson. 'Not that, at least. She saw, by the dawning look on Loerke's face, that he had understood. She was NOT Mrs Crich! So-o-, that explained a great deal. 'Soll ich Fraulein sagen? he asked, malevolently. 'I am not married, she said, with some hauteur.
There was a crisis when Gerald was a boy, when the Masters' Federation closed down the mines because the men would not accept a reduction. This lock-out had forced home the new conditions to Thomas Crich. Belonging to the Federation, he had been compelled by his honour to close the pits against his men. He, the father, the Patriarch, was forced to deny the means of life to his sons, his people.
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