Page 227 - sons-and-lovers

‘It wouldn’t matter but for the boys,’ she said to him.
‘Only Miriam knows what a trouble they make if the pota-
toes are ‘caught’.’
‘Then,’ thought Paul to himself, ‘you shouldn’t let them
make a trouble.’
After a while Edgar came in. He wore leggings, and his
boots were covered with earth. He was rather small, rather
formal, for a farmer. He glanced at Paul, nodded to him dis-
tantly, and said:
‘Dinner ready?’
‘Nearly, Edgar,’ replied the mother apologetically.
‘I’m ready for mine,’ said the young man, taking up the
newspaper and reading. Presently the rest of the family
trooped in. Dinner was served. The meal went rather bru-
tally. The over-gentleness and apologetic tone of the mother
brought out all the brutality of manners in the sons. Edgar
tasted the potatoes, moved his mouth quickly like a rabbit,
looked indignantly at his mother, and said:
‘These potatoes are burnt, mother.’
‘Yes, Edgar. I forgot them for a minute. Perhaps you’ll
have bread if you can’t eat them.’
Edgar looked in anger across at Miriam.
‘What was Miriam doing that she couldn’t attend to
them?’ he said.
Miriam looked up. Her mouth opened, her dark eyes
blazed and winced, but she said nothing. She swallowed her
anger and her shame, bowing her dark head.
‘I’m sure she was trying hard,’ said the mother.
‘She hasn’t got sense even to boil the potatoes,’ said Ed-

Sons and Lovers