Page 35 - sons-and-lovers

day. They entered the Nelson with the satisfaction of re-
turned travellers.
The next day was a work-day, and the thought of it put
a damper on the men’s spirits. Most of them, moreover,
had spent their money. Some were already rolling dismally
home, to sleep in preparation for the morrow. Mrs. Morel,
listening to their mournful singing, went indoors. Nine
o’clock passed, and ten, and still ‘the pair’ had not returned.
On a doorstep somewhere a man was singing loudly, in a
drawl: ‘Lead, kindly Light.’ Mrs. Morel was always indig-
nant with the drunken men that they must sing that hymn
when they got maudlin.
‘As if ‘Genevieve’ weren’t good enough,’ she said.
The kitchen was full of the scent of boiled herbs and
hops. On the hob a large black saucepan steamed slowly.
Mrs. Morel took a panchion, a great bowl of thick red earth,
streamed a heap of white sugar into the bottom, and then,
straining herself to the weight, was pouring in the liquor.
Just then Morel came in. He had been very jolly in the
Nelson, but coming home had grown irritable. He had
not quite got over the feeling of irritability and pain, after
having slept on the ground when he was so hot; and a bad
conscience afflicted him as he neared the house. He did not
know he was angry. But when the garden gate resisted his
attempts to open it, he kicked it and broke the latch. He en-
tered just as Mrs. Morel was pouring the infusion of herbs
out of the saucepan. Swaying slightly, he lurched against the
table. The boiling liquor pitched. Mrs. Morel started back.
‘Good gracious,’ she cried, ‘coming home in his drunk-

Sons and Lovers