Page 624 - sons-and-lovers

‘I am going by the four-twenty,’ said Paul again to Clara.
‘Are you coming then or later?’
‘I don’t know,’ she said.
‘I’m meeting my father in Nottingham at seven-fifteen,’
he said.
‘Then,’ she answered, ‘I’ll come later.’
Dawes jerked suddenly, as if he had been held on a strain.
He looked out over the sea, but he saw nothing.
‘There are one or two books in the corner,’ said Morel.
‘I’ve done with ‘em.’
At about four o’clock he went.
‘I shall see you both later,’ he said, as he shook hands.
‘I suppose so,’ said Dawes. ‘An’ perhaps—one day—I s’ll
be able to pay you back the money as—-‘
‘I shall come for it, you’ll see,’ laughed Paul. ‘I s’ll be on
the rocks before I’m very much older.’
‘Ay—well—-’ said Dawes.
‘Good-bye,’ he said to Clara.
‘Good-bye,’ she said, giving him her hand. Then she
glanced at him for the last time, dumb and humble.
He was gone. Dawes and his wife sat down again.
‘It’s a nasty day for travelling,’ said the man.
‘Yes,’ she answered.
They talked in a desultory fashion until it grew dark.
The landlady brought in the tea. Dawes drew up his chair to
the table without being invited, like a husband. Then he sat
humbly waiting for his cup. She served him as she would,
like a wife, not consulting his wish.
After tea, as it drew near to six o’clock, he went to the