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Updated: June 5, 2025
Dozens of times he must have passed the Sytch Pottery, and yet not noticed, not suspected, that it differed from any other pot-works: he who dreamed of being an architect! "You don't think much of it?" said Mr Orgreave, moving on. "People don't." "Oh yes! I do!" Edwin protested, and with such an air of eager sincerity that Mr Orgreave turned to glance at him.
Mr Orgreave spoke of him favourably. Mrs Orgreave said that he looked the right sort of youth, but that he had a peculiar manner. Janet said that she should not be surprised if there was something in him. Janet said also that his sister Clara was an impossible piece of goods, and that his sister Maggie was born an old maid.
Orgreave herself who had first counselled Hilda, if she hated black, as she said she did, to abandon black. The entire family chorus had approved. The risk of encountering Edwin Clayhanger on that day of multitudes was surely infinitesimal. Nevertheless, in six minutes the improbable had occurred.
He was now out of his articles, though still by the force of inertia at the office, and therefore he informed John Orgreave that unless Mr. John had any objection he proposed to take an hour off. Mr. Enwright was not in. Lucas knew vaguely of the rendezvous, having somewhere met Laurencine. From the outside Prosser's was not distinguishable from any other part of Regent Street.
I know far more about this town than you do, I bet!" Everybody laughed at Mrs. Orgreave, the great letter-writer and universal disseminator of information. "Now, Alicia, you must go to bed," said Mrs. Orgreave. And Alicia regretted that she had been so indiscreet as to draw attention to herself. "The kid can stay up if she will say her piece," said Charlie mockingly.
Less than a year ago Charlie Orgreave had been `the Sunday, had been `old Perish-in-the-attempt, and now he was a student in Besancon University, unapproachable, extraordinarily romantic; and he, Edwin, remained in his father's shop! He had been aware that Charlie had gone to Besancon University, but he had not realised it effectively till this moment.
Then, after a long period of beatific solitude in the breakfast-room, he heard stealthy noises in the hall, and his fancy jumped to the idea of burglary. Excited, unreflecting, he hurried into the hall. Johnnie Orgreave, who had let himself in with a latchkey, was shutting and bolting the front door. Johnnie's surprise was the greater.
Ten years ago he had almost regarded her as a madonna on a throne, so high did she seem to be above him. His ideas had changed, but there could be no doubt that in an alliance between an Orgreave and a Clayhanger, it would be the Clayhanger who stood to gain the greater advantage. There she was! If she was not waiting for him, she was waiting for some one! Why not for him as well as for another?
They were both assisting their father in business, and sought relief from his gigantic conception of a day's work by evening diversions at Hanbridge. These two former noisy Liberals had joined the Hanbridge Conservative Club because it was a club, and had a billiard-table that could only be equalled at the Five Towns Hotel at Knype. "And Mr Orgreave?" "He's working upstairs, sir.
She carried the photograph, unwrapped; but he ventured no comment. She went straight up to her room. "You must tell Mrs. Orgreave," she said on the stairs. Adela made a strange remark: "Oh! But we always intended you to marry Lois!" George came into the conjugal bedroom. The hour was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Lois lay on the sofa at the foot of the twin beds.
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