Your Electronic Books

In the night she struggled with him. He raved, and raved, and would not
come to consciousness. At two o'clock, in a dreadful paroxysm, he died.
Mrs. Morel sat perfectly still for an hour in the lodging bedroom; then
she roused the household.
At six o'clock, with the aid of the charwoman, she laid him out; then
she went round the dreary London village to the registrar and the
doctor.
At nine o'clock to the cottage on Scargill Street came another wire:
"William died last night. Let father come, bring money."
Annie, Paul, and Arthur were at home; Mr. Morel was gone to work. The
three children said not a word. Annie began to whimper with fear; Paul
set off for his father.
It was a beautiful day. At Brinsley pit the white steam melted slowly in
the sunshine of a soft blue sky; the wheels of the headstocks twinkled
high up; the screen, shuffling its coal into the trucks, made a busy
noise.
"I want my father; he's got to go to London," said the boy to the first
man he met on the bank.


Pages:
269 270 271 272 273 274 275 276 277 278 279 280 281 282 283 284 285 286 287 288 289 290 291 292 293