Page 132 - sons-and-lovers

lad. And what’s he done this time?’
‘I don’t know for sure, but it’s ‘is leg somewhere. They
ta’ein’ ‘im ter th’ ‘ospital.’
‘Good gracious me!’ she exclaimed. ‘Eh, dear, what a
one he is! There’s not five minutes of peace, I’ll be hanged
if there is! His thumb’s nearly better, and now—- Did you
see him?’
‘I seed him at th’ bottom. An’ I seed ‘em bring ‘im up in a
tub, an’ ‘e wor in a dead faint. But he shouted like anythink
when Doctor Fraser examined him i’ th’ lamp cabin—an’
cossed an’ swore, an’ said as ‘e wor goin’ to be ta’en whoam—
‘e worn’t goin’ ter th’ ‘ospital.’
The boy faltered to an end.
‘He WOULD want to come home, so that I can have all
the bother. Thank you, my lad. Eh, dear, if I’m not sick—sick
and surfeited, I am!’
She came downstairs. Paul had mechanically resumed
his painting.
‘And it must be pretty bad if they’ve taken him to the
hospital,’ she went on. ‘But what a CARELESS creature
he is! OTHER men don’t have all these accidents. Yes, he
WOULD want to put all the burden on me. Eh, dear, just as
we WERE getting easy a bit at last. Put those things away,
there’s no time to be painting now. What time is there a
train? I know I s’ll have to go trailing to Keston. I s’ll have
to leave that bedroom.’
‘I can finish it,’ said Paul.
‘You needn’t. I shall catch the seven o’clock back, I should
think. Oh, my blessed heart, the fuss and commotion he’ll

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