Each of the Morel children--William, then Annie, then Paul--had fetched the money on Friday afternoons, until they went themselves to work.

Paul used to set off at half-past three, with a little calico bag in his pocket.

Down all the paths, women, girls, children, and men were seen trooping to the offices.
These offices were quite handsome: a new, red-brick building, almost like a mansion, standing in its own grounds at the end of Greenhill Lane.

The waiting-room was the hall, a long, bare room paved with blue brick, and having a seat all round, against the wall.

Here sat the colliers in their pit-dirt.