He looked at her again, and went, without any sort of leave-taking.

He never took more than two slices of bread and butter to eat in the pit, so an apple or an orange was a treat to him.
He always liked it when she put one out for him.

He tied a scarf round his neck, put on his great, heavy boots, his coat, with the big pocket, that carried his snap-bag and his bottle of tea, and went forth into the fresh morning air, closing, without locking, the door behind him.

He loved the early morning, and the walk across the fields.

So he appeared at the pit-top, often with a stalk from the hedge between his teeth, which he chewed all day to keep his mouth moist, down the mine, feeling quite as happy as when he was in the field.
Later, when the time for the baby grew nearer, he would bustle round in his slovenly fashion, poking out the ashes, rubbing the fireplace, sweeping the house before he went to work.