'I'll just put it aside o' the penny-in-the-slot, and Heather's
greengrocers'll fetch it about half past eight,' he said.
He seized the box by its two handles and staggered with it across the
level-crossing, bumping his legs against it as he waddled. Then he
dropped it by the red sweet-meats machine.
'Will it be safe there?' she said.
'Ay--safe as houses,' he answered. He returned for the two bags. Thus
laden, they started to plod up the hill, under the great long black
building of the foundry. She walked beside him--workman of workmen he
was, trudging with that luggage. The red lights flared over the deepening
darkness. From the foundry came the horrible, slow clang, clang, clang of
iron, a great noise, with an interval just long enough to make it
unendurable.
Compare this with the arrival at Gloucester: the carriage for her
mistress, the dog-cart for herself with the luggage; the drive out past
the river, the pleasant trees of the carriage-approach; and herself
sitting beside Arthur, everybody so polite to her.
She had come home--for good! Her heart nearly stopped beating as she
trudged up that hideous and interminable hill, beside the laden figure.
What a come-down! What a come-down! She could not take it with her usual
bright cheerfulness. She knew it all too well. It is easy to bear up
against the unusual, but the deadly familiarity of an old stale past!
He dumped the bags down under a lamp-post, for a rest.
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