Page 416 - sons-and-lovers

dom among the black heaps. Beyond, the dwellings, very
dense on the river flat, looked like black, poisonous herb-
age, in thick rows and crowded beds, stretching right away,
broken now and then by taller plants, right to where the riv-
er glistened in a hieroglyph across the country. The steep
scarp cliffs across the river looked puny. Great stretches of
country darkened with trees and faintly brightened with
corn-land, spread towards the haze, where the hills rose
blue beyond grey.
‘It is comforting,’ said Mrs. Dawes, ‘to think the town
goes no farther. It is only a LITTLE sore upon the country
yet.’
‘A little scab,’ Paul said.
She shivered. She loathed the town. Looking drearily
across at the country which was forbidden her, her impas-
sive face, pale and hostile, she reminded Paul of one of the
bitter, remorseful angels.
‘But the town’s all right,’ he said; ‘it’s only temporary.
This is the crude, clumsy make-shift we’ve practised on, till
we find out what the idea is. The town will come all right.’
The pigeons in the pockets of rock, among the perched
bushes, cooed comfortably. To the left the large church of St.
Mary rose into space, to keep close company with the Cas-
tle, above the heaped rubble of the town. Mrs. Dawes smiled
brightly as she looked across the country.
‘I feel better,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he replied. ‘Great compliment!’
‘Oh, my brother!’ she laughed.
‘H’m! that’s snatching back with the left hand what you

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