Page 116 - sons-and-lovers

and Derby, Ilkeston and Mansfield, meet, many stalls were
erected. Brakes ran in from surrounding villages. The mar-
ket-place was full of women, the streets packed with men. It
was amazing to see so many men everywhere in the streets.
Mrs. Morel usually quarrelled with her lace woman, sym-
pathised with her fruit man—who was a gabey, but his
wife was a bad ‘un—laughed with the fish man—who was a
scamp but so droll—put the linoleum man in his place, was
cold with the odd-wares man, and only went to the crockery
man when she was driven—or drawn by the cornflowers on
a little dish; then she was coldly polite.
‘I wondered how much that little dish was,’ she said.
‘Sevenpence to you.’
‘Thank you.’
She put the dish down and walked away; but she could
not leave the market-place without it. Again she went by
where the pots lay coldly on the floor, and she glanced at the
dish furtively, pretending not to.
She was a little woman, in a bonnet and a black costume.
Her bonnet was in its third year; it was a great grievance to
Annie.
‘Mother!’ the girl implored, ‘don’t wear that nubbly little
bonnet.’
‘Then what else shall I wear,’ replied the mother tartly.
‘And I’m sure it’s right enough.’
It had started with a tip; then had had flowers; now was
reduced to black lace and a bit of jet.
‘It looks rather come down,’ said Paul. ‘Couldn’t you give
it a pick-me-up?’

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