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he said.

16'Hello,' she replied, and her hands going nervously to her hat, she straightened it and pulled the sides of her hip-length, dark blue coat together, as if to hide the front of her print dress. Then when she saw the hand come from Joe's pocket and his fingers uncurl to reveal the bag that only a short time before she had buried, she put a hand over her mouth and fell back against the wall, gasping.* Tis all right. Tis all right,' he said. This is yours, isn't it?'She didn't speak, but her head moved from side to side; and now he went on, his voice low, 'I happened to be on the other side pickin' blackberries for me ma. She has them every year. You and he stopped just afore me on the other side of the hedge. There was no time to get away; but then'- he shrugged his shoulders-'if there had been I still would have stayed . . . Here! take it.'

Her hand did not leave her mouth, and he stared at her in silence for a moment before he said, 'I'm going to ask you a question. I know I make me mouth go in there'- he nodded towards the wall-'I've got to, to 17keep them up to scratch, but . . . but do you dislike me?'The hand slid slowly down to her chin, then gripped the top of her coat before she shook her head, saying, 'No. No.''Do you like me then?'There was a pause while her eyes widened and her lips opened and shut without emitting words. And then they came in a low whisper: 'Yes. Yes, I like you all right.''Aye, well now'--his head was nodding'--that's out of the way. Now another question, important this to both of us ... Will you marry me?'The hand went across her mouth again, tightly now, pressing out the moist cream skin of her cheeks till they looked like distorted pink balloons.'Well?''You would?' The hand slipped from her mouth and now she muttered,

'You would? I mean, marry me?''That's what I've said.'She now looked at the small bag that was still in his hand and which was resting against his waist now; and then in a bewildered 18 fashion she said, 'But . . . but I don't know how much is in there.''God in heaven!' His voice had been almost a yell and now he looked first one way then the other along the building before poking his head towards her and saying, 'And neither do I. What are you suggestin'? You think because . . because of this . . . ?' He now threw the bag at her, but her hand didn't go out to catch it and so it fell to the ground.When she made no move to retrieve it he picked it up again and thrust it into her hand, saying angrily, That doesn't say much for what you think of me.'She was stammering now, 'W . . . w . , . well, I

... I meant, Joe . . . what , . . what I mean is. Oh, I don't know.' Her head drooped onto her chest and as tears ran down her face and with the side of her forefinger she wiped them off her upper lip and her chin, he said, 'Give over. Give over. But get it into your head, whatever's in that bag's got nothin' to do with it.

I've always had a fancy for you . , . well, I mean, over the past two years, since you were sixteen or so.

So has many another round about. And yet

19you seemed to keep yourself to yourself, but apparently not enough.'Her head was bowed again.'But I'm not blamin' you, not entirely, because those bastards will get what they want one way or t'other: money talks for them.' He stood for a moment looking down at her bent head; then, his voice changing and a small smile spreading across his lips, he said, 'Anyway, I can't be as bad as the workhouse, can I?''Oh, Joe.'When she raised her head he stood looking into her beautiful tear-filled eyes. He didn't know whether they were grey or green, he only knew they changed with her mood. He'd seen them sparkle with laughter at the antics that some of the lasses got up to, then shed pity, like they had done one day last week when old Fanny Culbert collapsed at her bench and died.His head now drooped as she said, I'll never forget this to my dyin' day, Joe. An' I'll be true to you till the end, however long or short.'"Aye, well, that's good enough for me. Now, let's get down to brass tacks. You'd 20better get home and break the news. I'll come along with you but . . . well, I won't go in. I'll give you ten minutes or so, then I'll come and see what reception you've had and we'll take it from there, eh?''Aye, Joe. Yes, Joe.''Well, come on; leave that wall alone, it's supported itself so far.'She took a step forward and then, looking down at the bag that she was still clasping in her hand, she said, 'You'd better keep that, because if I go in home with it, I won't come out with it. I know that much.''Aye, there's something in that.' He took the bag from her; then dangling it by its string, he said, 'But it would be a good idea if you opened it, wouldn't it?''You do it.'Untying the string, he pulled the top of the chamois-leather bag open, then tipped the coins onto his palm. There were five gold sovereigns, and they both stood looking at them for a moment until he said, 'Well, you'll be needing things later on; but in the meantime I'll do as you say, I'll hang on to it.'She stood looking at him as he put the 21coins back into the bag and then placed it in his trouser pocket; but when she still stood as though undecided, he urged her forward saying, 'Well, come on then. Let battle begin.' Which had its effect for she now walked briskly by his side along by the factory wall, then across the dried-mud-ridged front, past the stables where the horses were champing while at their Sunday rest, and so on to the first row of Honeybee Place. And here the stench of the middens hit them with a force engendered by the heat.The smell did not make them nip their noses or put a hand over their mouths because, through use, they were inured against it. They made their way down between the two-roomed houses, stuck tight together as if for support, and the line of so-called dry lavatories fronting them. One midden was allotted to two houses. Inside would be a rough stone erection stretching across the full width and acting as the frontal support of a stretch of wood with a hole in it. Outside and in the back wall near the bottom would be a hatch which could be lifted up in order to clean the midden.The idea was for ashes from the coal fires 22to soak up the effluent; but there never seemed enough ashes to meet the need and so the lane beyond was polluted through the bursting hatches.It was a disgraceful quarter, the townspeople said, but Honeybee Place, like its counterpart of Bog's End in Fellburn, had been there before the town had come into real existence. Every new mayor was going to make it his business to wipe out the place. But then, of course, the question would arise: where would he propose to house the people until new habitations could be built for them, because they must be near their work?Joe hated this quarter, and he thanked God he hadn't been brought up here. Yet one minute's walk from the rows was Honeybee Hollow. Only five houses were in the Hollow, and they, too, supported each other. But there was the difference: they were stone-floored, and besides the two rooms downstairs, each had an attic above and a washhouse leading into a backyard. And what added so much to the difference was the tap at the bottom of each yard and next to it the private closet, the same type as the

23others, but private, almost as great a privilege as the tap. In consequence, the occupants of these five houses had always considered themselves a cut above those in Honeybee Place.But Lily Whitmore lived in 29 Hawk Row, and as they turned out of Robin Row, Joe stopped and said, 'Look, I'll wait here. I'll give you ten minutes and then I'll come along. What'll you say to them?'She cast her eyes downwards as she said, "I'll . . , I'll say you want to marry me.'He gave her a little smile as he said, "I'd like it better if you said, I want to marry him, or, I'm going to marry him.'She made an effort to return the smile, then nodded and said, 'Well, I'll say something like that.''Does he get rough?'Her whole body gave a slight shudder before she said, 'He has. He used to, but . . . but I've stood up to him lately.''That's the way.

Well, stand up to him again. And don't forget, I'll be just outside Waiting.''What'll you say to him?'

24'You leave that to me. Well, go on. Don't fret. Everything'll be all right.'He watched her walk away, zig-zagging between the children playing on the road. She walked good, straight. She was a lovely girl.

His want of her had grown over the past months. But so had that of a number of fellas, and they were lads of her own age. Well, he was only twenty-three; what was five years difference? And he'd be more able to take care of her than any of them. But God! what he'd like to do at this minute would be to gallop, as that fella had galloped through that wood, and get him by the throat, and choke the bloody life out of him. Oh, he would love to do that, and take the consequences. Aye, the consequences. But if he took the consequences he wouldn't have Lily, and you couldn't have everything in life.When she had disappeared through a doorway halfway along the street, he turned his attention to the children playing on the road. One was squawking its head off. It was naked except for a rough calico diaper and it was crawling to where its elders, ranging between three and five, were playing chucks, 25throwing up a cube-shaped stone while attempting to snatch up smaller stones before it should descend again.The cries of the children were strident, happy; their faces, dirty and sweat begrimed, were laughing; except for the crawling baby. He watched as one of the bigger girls, definitely all of five years old, screwed round on her knees, thrust out her arms, grabbed up the child and plonked it on her lap with a practised hand. She could have been the mother or the grandmother. His thoughts told him she was learning early in her particular school of life.He did not possess a watch; he relied for the time on the buzzers from the factory: six o'clock start, eight o'clock break, twelve o'clock break, and five o'clock finish. Some factories kept their employees working till six, or later, and there was no buzzer to signal their release.When he imagined ten minutes must have elapsed he began to walk slowly down the street, past the women here and there sitting on their doorsteps, most of them napping their blouses to attract the air. Generally, no notice seemed to be taken of him, except 26when a voice would call out, 'Why! Hello, Joe. Got lost?' to which he would answer merely by a look.

Even before he reached number twenty-nine he knew it was Lily's home by the sound of a man's raucous yelling voice. He couldn't make out the gist of the man's words until he was opposite the door, and then they came to him plainly: 'Begod! you will. I've brought you up, worked for you and you're goin' to walk out now, are you? So you think. Well, let me tell you, miss, you'll walk out when I'm ready an' not afore.

Married, you say?'A woman's voice now broke in, saying, 'Bill! Bill! Stop it! It might be the best thing.''Best thing? What d'you mean, woman, best thing?'There was a pause, and Joe could only imagine that in the room beyond the halfopen door the woman and man were staring at each other. And now the man's voice came low, not yelling any more but weighed down with threat: 'By God! If I thought it was right what your ma is tryin' to say, I'd drag you this minute to the church and Father McShea ... Is it true?

Answer me! or I'll throttle you.'

27'You lay your hands on me and I'll ...I'll . . .' When the trembling voice came to Joe hethrust open the door and, staring back into the infuriated face of Bill Whitmore, he said, *Aye; you lay your hands on her, just once.*'What the hell d'you want? . , . Oh! Oh, not you! A bloody Protestant.5'Aye, me. A bloody Protestant, is intending to marry a bloody Catholic. Now what d'you make of that, big-mouth Bill?''You watch it. You watch it else you'll find your gob split from ear to ear.''You've always fought with your mouth, Bill; you're known for fightin' with your mouth. Wind an' watter, that's your makeup. Now listen to me-' He now turned towards Annie Whitmore, saying, 'Or perhaps her mother should listen to me. Likely get more sense out of you, missis. But I'm rnarryin' Lily, and if she wants to be married as a Catholic it's all the same to me. Yet, I don't think she'll bother. For all I care it could be the Baptists or the Methodists. I'm a man of wide tastes, I have no definite opinion, like parsons I could mention who imagine they know what God wants. But if no

28one of these seems willin' then there's always the Registry Office. So I should imagine within the next couple of weeks or so we should be hitched. But in the meantime she's goin' to come along of me an'

stay with me mother, everything above board.'Annie Whitmore could find nothing to say; all she seemed capable of doing at the moment was to open and shut her mouth while glancing wearily at her husband.

That was, until one of the four children in the room, the oldest who looked to be about nine, whimpered,

'Ma,' when she turned and screamed at her, 'Get out of it! Get out of it!' which caused a scrambling of all four children through a door leading into the other room and some measure of decision from herself, for she turned back to her daughter and said quietly, 'You set on this?''Aye, Ma. Yes; yes, I am.'After a moment, the woman, blinking rapidly as she stared at her first-born, whose presence in the house had acted as an irritant since she had married for the second time, said now and still quietly, 'Well, go on and gather your bits of things an' get . . .'to be

29interrupted by her husband when he cried at her, 'You goin' to let her go like that?'She faced him squarely and in a flat but firm voice she answered him: 'Aye, I'm goin' to let her go like that, because if her belly's full, what kind of a life is she goin' to have here? An' after all's said and done, she's mine, an'

that bein' as it is, I've got the last word on her.''By God! you'll suffer for this, woman.''Well, that'll be nothin' new to me, will it, Bill? And, like her, I might take it into me head to say, don't lay your hands on me. Anyway, that's in the future.' She turned now as Lily came out of the bedroom carrying a bundle of clothes in one hand and a long black overall over her other arm and a pair of clogs in her hand.For a moment she stood looking at her mother; then she said, 'Bye, ma. I'll see you.' She now looked towards where Joe was standing in the open doorway, but to reach him she would have to pass her stepfather and he was standing at the end of the table, his hands hanging by his sides but his fists doubled. And when Joe saw her hesitate he stepped forward until he was abreast of the 30man and, reaching out towards her, he said, 'Come on. There's such a thing as overstayin' your welcome.'As Joe pressed her towards the door Bill Whitmore growled, 'You won't get off with it, you know. I'll get you,' to which Joe reacted by thrusting Lily forward into the street with his flat hand between her shoulders before swinging round to face the enraged man. 'You try anything on,' he said.