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"I s'll have to begin a new start of some sort," said Paul; "and you as well, I suppose." He took one of Dawes's pieces. "I dunno where," said the other. "Things have to happen," Morel said. "It's no good doing anything at least no, I don't know. Give me some toffee." The two men ate sweets, and began another game of draughts. "What made that scar on your mouth?" asked Dawes.
When he got back, his mother was just beginning to wash the floor. He sat crouched up on the sofa. "He says it'll be here on Saturday," he said. "And how much will it be?" "About one pound eleven," he said. She went on washing her floor in silence. "Is it a lot?" he asked. "It's no more than I thought," she answered. "An' I s'll earn eight shillings a week," he said.
When they came to the swing bridge he sat down on the great pole, looking at the stars in the water. He was a long way from her. She had been thinking. "Will you always stay at Jordan's?" she asked. "No," he answered without reflecting. "No; I s'll leave Nottingham and go abroad soon." "Go abroad! What for?" "I dunno! I feel restless." "But what shall you do?"
He looked down, but struggled hard not to take in the sight of his wife's face. 'I s'll come again, Maud, he said. 'I hope you'll go on all right. Is there anything as you want? There was an almost imperceptible shake of the head from the sick woman, making his heart melt swiftly again. Then, dragging his limbs, he got out of the room and down the stairs. The landlord came after him.
Leivers; "it's a nice little place, if only it weren't for the rabbits. The pasture's bitten down to nothing. I dunno if ever I s'll get the rent off it." He clapped his hands, and the field broke into motion near the woods, brown rabbits hopping everywhere. "Would you believe it!" exclaimed Mrs. Morel. She and Paul went on alone together. "Wasn't it lovely, mother?" he said quietly.
Money we live for, and money we are when we're dead: that or nothing. An' it's money as is between the masters and us. There's a few educated ones got hold of one end of the rope, and all the lot of us hanging on to th' other end, an' we s'll go on pulling our guts out, time in, time out " "But they've got th' long end o' th' rope, th' masters has," said Brewitt.
"Well, how are ter, then?" he asked. "I s'll be all right," she answered. "H'm!" He stood at a loss what to say next. He was tired, and this bother was rather a nuisance to him, and he didn't quite know where he was. "A lad, tha says," he stammered. She turned down the sheet and showed the child. "Bless him!" he murmured.
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