Morel stared at the sugar-basin instead of eating his dinner.

His black arm, with the hand all gnarled with work lay on the table.

His wife pretended not to see him rub the back of his hand across his eyes, nor the smear in the coal-dust on his black face.
"Yes, an' that other lad 'ud 'a done as much if they hadna ha' killed 'im," he said quietly.
The thought of William went through Mrs.Morel like a cold blade.

It left her feeling she was tired, and wanted rest.
Paul was invited to dinner at Mr.Jordan's.

Afterwards he said: "Mother, I want an evening suit." "Yes, I was afraid you would," she said.