"He's got no money.

An' he'll be satisfied if he gets his 'lowance, whether they give him more or not." When the light was fading, and Mrs.Morel could see no more to sew, she rose and went to the door.

Everywhere was the sound of excitement, the restlessness of the holiday, that at last infected her.

She went out into the side garden.

Women were coming home from the wakes, the children hugging a white lamb with green legs, or a wooden horse.
Occasionally a man lurched past, almost as full as he could carry.
Sometimes a good husband came along with his family, peacefully.