Page 146 - sons-and-lovers

that cheap?’
‘And made of needlework as well,’ he said.
‘Yes.’
They had plenty of time, so they did not hurry. The town
was strange and delightful to them. But the boy was tied up
inside in a knot of apprehension. He dreaded the interview
with Thomas Jordan.
It was nearly eleven o’clock by St. Peter’s Church. They
turned up a narrow street that led to the Castle. It was
gloomy and old-fashioned, having low dark shops and dark
green house doors with brass knockers, and yellow-ochred
doorsteps projecting on to the pavement; then another old
shop whose small window looked like a cunning, half-shut
eye. Mother and son went cautiously, looking everywhere
for ‘Thomas Jordan and Son”. It was like hunting in some
wild place. They were on tiptoe of excitement.
Suddenly they spied a big, dark archway, in which were
names of various firms, Thomas Jordan among them.
‘Here it is!’ said Mrs. Morel. ‘But now WHERE is it?’
They looked round. On one side was a queer, dark, card-
board factory, on the other a Commercial Hotel.
‘It’s up the entry,’ said Paul.
And they ventured under the archway, as into the jaws
of the dragon. They emerged into a wide yard, like a well,
with buildings all round. It was littered with straw and box-
es, and cardboard. The sunshine actually caught one crate
whose straw was streaming on to the yard like gold. But
elsewhere the place was like a pit. There were several doors,
and two flights of steps. Straight in front, on a dirty glass

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