"Perhaps!" "And all the trucks standing waiting, like a string of beasts to be fed," he said.
"And very thankful I am they ARE standing," she said, "for that means they'll turn middling time this week." "But I like the feel of MEN on things, while they're alive.

There's a feel of men about trucks, because they've been handled with men's hands, all of them." "Yes," said Mrs.Morel.
They went along under the trees of the highroad.

He was constantly informing her, but she was interested.

They passed the end of Nethermere, that was tossing its sunshine like petals lightly in its lap.

Then they turned on a private road, and in some trepidation approached a big farm.