Page 308 - sons-and-lovers

‘Wi’ a rattle in it like a kettle-drum,’ said Barker shortly.
‘T-t-t-t!’ went Mrs. Morel rapidly with her tongue. ‘Did
you have that flannel singlet made?’
‘Not yet,’ he smiled.
‘Then, why didn’t you?’ she cried.
‘It’ll come,’ he smiled.
‘Ah, an’ Doomsday!’ exclaimed Barker.
Barker and Morel were both impatient of Wesson. But,
then, they were both as hard as nails, physically.
When Morel was nearly ready he pushed the bag of mon-
ey to Paul.
‘Count it, boy,’ he asked humbly.
Paul impatiently turned from his books and pen-
cil, tipped the bag upside down on the table. There was a
five-pound bag of silver, sovereigns and loose money. He
counted quickly, referred to the checks—the written papers
giving amount of coal—put the money in order. Then Bark-
er glanced at the checks.
Mrs. Morel went upstairs, and the three men came to ta-
ble. Morel, as master of the house, sat in his armchair, with
his back to the hot fire. The two butties had cooler seats.
None of them counted the money.
‘What did we say Simpson’s was?’ asked Morel; and the
butties cavilled for a minute over the dayman’s earnings.
Then the amount was put aside.
‘An’ Bill Naylor’s?’
This money also was taken from the pack.
Then, because Wesson lived in one of the company’s
houses, and his rent had been deducted, Morel and Bark-

0