Page 155 - sons-and-lovers

arrived home in the mellow evening, happy, and glowing,
and tired.
In the morning he filled in the form for his season-ticket
and took it to the station. 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.
She did not answer, but went on with her work. At last
she said:
‘That William promised me, when he went to London,
as he’d give me a pound a month. He has given me ten shil-
lings—twice; and now I know he hasn’t a farthing if I asked
him. Not that I want it. Only just now you’d think he might
be able to help with this ticket, which I’d never expected.’
‘He earns a lot,’ said Paul.
‘He earns a hundred and thirty pounds. But they’re all
alike. They’re large in promises, but it’s precious little fulfil-
ment you get.’
‘He spends over fifty shillings a week on himself,’ said
Paul.
‘And I keep this house on less than thirty,’ she replied;
‘and am supposed to find money for extras. But they don’t
care about helping you, once they’ve gone. He’d rather

1 Sons and Lovers