'You mun sign, seal, and deliver this,' he said, putting a pen in her hand.
She sat down obediently to write, but he stopped her with a scornful gesture.
'Thou 'lt sign blind then, eh? Just like a woman!'
'I left it to you,' she said.
'Left it to me! Read it.'
She read through the deed, and after she had accomplished30 the feat31 one fact only stood clear in her mind, that the partnership was for seven years, a period extensible by consent of both parties to fourteen or twenty-one years. Then she affixed32 her signature, the pen moving awkwardly over the rough surface of the parchment.
'Now put thy finger on that bit o' wax, and say; "I deliver this as my act and deed."'
'I deliver this as my act and deed.'
The old man signed as witness. 'Soon as I give this to Lawyer Dane,' he remarked, 'thou'rt bound, willy-nilly. Law's law, and thou'rt bound.'
On the following day she had to sign a cheque which reduced her bank-balance to about three pounds. Perhaps it was the knowledge of this reduction that led Ephraim Tellwright to resume at once and with fresh rigour his new policy of 'squeezing the last penny' out of Titus Price (despite the fact that the latter had already achieved the incredible by paying thirty pounds in little more than a month), thus causing the catastrophe33 which soon afterwards befell. What methods her father was adopting Anna did not know, since he said no word to her about the matter: she only knew that Agnes had twice been dispatched with notes to Edward Street. One day, about noon, a clay-soiled urchin34 brought a letter addressed to herself: she guessed that it was some appeal for mercy from the Prices, and wished that her father had been at home. The old man was away for the whole day, attending a sale of property at Axe35, the agricultural town in the north of the county, locally styled 'the metropolis36 of the moorlands.' Anna read:—'My dear Miss Tellwright,—Now that our partnership is an accomplished fact, will you not come and look over the works? I should much like you to do so. I shall be passing your house this afternoon about two, and will call on the chance of being able to take you down with me to the works. If you are unable to come no harm will be done, and some other day can be arranged; but of course I shall be disappointed.—Believe me, yours most sincerely, HY. MYNORS.'
She was charmed with the idea—to her so audacious—and relieved that the note was not after all from Titus or Willie Price: but again she had to regret that her father was not at home. He would be capable of thinking and saying that the projected expedition was a truancy38, contrived39 to occur in his absence. He might grumble40 at the house being left without a keeper. Moreover, according to a tacit law, she never departed from the fixed routine of her existence without first obtaining Ephraim's approval, or at least being sure that such a departure would not make him violently angry. She wondered whether Mynors knew that her father was away, and, if so, whether he had chosen that afternoon purposely. She did not care that Mynors should call for her—it made the visit seem so formal; and as in order to reach the works, down at Shawport by the canal-side, they would necessarily go through the middle of the town, she foresaw infinite gossip and rumour41 as one result. Already, she knew, the names of herself and Mynors were everywhere coupled, and she could not even enter a shop without being made aware, more or less delicately, that she was an object of piquant43 curiosity. A woman is profoundly interesting to women at two periods only—before she is betrothed44 and before she becomes the mother of her firstborn. Anna was in the first period; her life did not comprise the second. When Agnes came home to dinner from school, Anna said nothing of Mynors' note until they had begun to wash up the dinner-things, when she suggested that Agnes should finish this operation alone.
'I'm going out, and I must get ready.'
'Going out? And shall you leave the house all empty? What will father say? Where are you going to?'
Agnes's tendency to anticipate the worst, and never to blink their father's tyranny, always annoyed Anna, and she answered rather curtly47: 'I'm going to the works—Mr. Mynors' works. He's sent word he wants me to.' She despised herself for wishing to hide anything, and added, 'He will call here for me about two o'clock.'
'Mr. Mynors! How splendid!' And then Agnes's face fell somewhat. 'I suppose he won't call before two? If he doesn't, I shall be gone to school.'
'Do you want to see him?'
'Oh, no! I don't want to see him. But—I suppose you'll be out a long time, and he'll bring you back.'
'Of course he won't, you silly girl. And I shan't be out long. I shall be back for tea.'
Anna ran upstairs to dress. At ten minutes to two she was ready. Agnes usually left at a quarter to two, but the child had not yet gone. At five minutes to two, Anna called downstairs to her to ask her when she meant to depart.
'I'm just going now,' Agnes shouted back. She opened the front door and then returned to the foot of the stairs. 'Anna, if I meet him down the road shall I tell him you're ready waiting for him?'
'Certainly not. Whatever are you dreaming of?' the elder sister reproved. 'Besides, he isn't coming from the town.'
'Oh! All right. Good-bye.' And the child at last went.
It was something after two—every siren and hooter had long since finished the summons to work—when Mynors rang the bell. Anna was still upstairs. She examined herself in the glass, and then descended48 slowly.
'Good afternoon,' he said. 'I see you are ready to come. I'm very glad. I hope I haven't inconvenienced you, but just this afternoon seemed to be a good opportunity for you to see the works, and, you know, you ought to see it. Father in?'
'No,' she said. 'I shall leave the house to take care of itself. Do you want to see him?'
'Not specially,' he replied. 'I think we have settled everything.'
She banged the door behind her, and they started. As he held open the gate for her exit, she could not ignore the look of passionate49 admiration50 on his face. It was a look disconcerting by its mere15 intensity51. The man could control his tongue, but not his eyes. His demeanour, as she viewed it, aggravated52 her self-consciousness as they braved the streets. But she was happy in her perturbation. When they reached Duck Bank, Mynors asked her whether they should go through the market-place or along King Street, by the bottom of St. Luke's Square. 'By the market-place,' she said. The shop where Miss Dickinson was employed was at the bottom of St. Luke's Square, and all the eyes of the marketplace was preferable to the chance of those eyes.
Probably no one in the Five Towns takes a conscious pride in the antiquity53 of the potter's craft, nor in its unique and intimate relation to human life, alike civilised and uncivilised. Man hardened clay into a bowl before he spun54 flax and made a garment, and the last lone45 man will want an earthen vessel55 after he has abandoned his ruined house for a cave, and his woven rags for an animal's skin. This supremacy56 of the most ancient of crafts is in the secret nature of things, and cannot be explained. History begins long after the period when Bursley was first the central seat of that honoured manufacture: it is the central seat still—'the mother of the Five Towns,' in our local phrase—and though the townsmen, absorbed in a strenuous57 daily struggle, may forget their heirship58 to an unbroken tradition of countless59 centuries, the seal of their venerable calling is upon their foreheads. If no other relic60 of an immemorial past is to be seen in these modernised sordid61 streets, there is at least the living legacy62 of that extraordinary kinship between workman and work, that instinctive63 mastery of clay which the past has bestowed64 upon the present. The horse is less to the Arab than clay is to the Bursley man. He exists in it and by it; it fills his lungs and blanches65 his cheek; it keeps him alive and it kills him. His fingers close round it as round the hand of a friend. He knows all its tricks and aptitudes66; when to coax67 and when to force it, when to rely on it and when to distrust it. The weavers68 of Lancashire have dubbed69 him with an obscene epithet70 on account of it, an epithet whose hasty use has led to many a fight, but nothing could be more illuminatively descriptive than that epithet, which names his vocation71 in terms of another vocation. A dozen decades of applied72 science have of course resulted in the interposition of elaborate machinery73 between the clay and the man; but no great vulgar handicraft has lost less of the human than potting. Clay is always clay, and the steam-driven contrivance that will mould a basin while a man sits and watches has yet to be invented. Moreover, if in some coarser process the hands are superseded74, the number of processes has been multiplied tenfold: the ware42 in which six men formerly75 collaborated76 is now produced by sixty; and thus, in one sense, the touch of finger on clay is more pervasive77 than ever before.
Mynors' works was acknowledged to be one of the best, of its size, in the district—a model three-oven bank, and it must be remembered that of the hundreds of banks in the Five Towns the vast majority are small, like this: the large manufactory with its corps78 of jacket-men,[1] one of whom is detached to show visitors round so much of the works as is deemed advisable for them to see, is the exception. Mynors paid three hundred pounds a year in rent, and produced nearly three hundred pounds worth of work a week. He was his own manager, and there was only one jacket-man on the place, a clerk at eighteen shillings. He employed about a hundred hands, and devoted79 all his ingenuity80 to prevent that wastage which is at once the easiest to overlook and the most difficult to check, the wastage of labour. No pains were spared to keep all departments in full and regular activity, and owing to his judicious81 firmness the feast of St. Monday, that canker eternally eating at the root of the prosperity of the Five Towns, was less religiously observed on his bank than perhaps anywhere else in Bursley. He had realised that when a workshop stands empty the employer has not only ceased to make money, but has begun to lose it. The architect of 'Providence82 Works' (Providence stands godfather to many commercial enterprises in the Five Towns) knew his business and the business of the potter, and he had designed the works with a view to the strictest economy of labour. The various shops were so arranged that in the course of its metamorphosis the clay travelled naturally in a circle from the slip-house by the canal to the packing-house by the canal: there was no carrying to and fro. The steam installation was complete: steam once generated had no respite83; after it had exhausted84 itself in vitalising fifty machines, it was killed by inches in order to dry the unfired ware and warm the dinners of the workpeople.
Henry took Anna to the canal-entrance, because the buildings looked best from that side.
'Now how much is a crate85 worth?' she asked, pointing to a crate which was being swung on a crane direct from the packing-house into a boat.
'That?' Mynors answered. 'A crateful86 of ware may be worth anything. At Minton's I have seen a crate worth three hundred pounds. But that one there is only worth eight or nine pounds. You see you and I make cheap stuff.'
'But don't you make any really good pots—are they all cheap?'
'All cheap,' he said.
'I suppose that's business?' He detected a note of regret in her voice.
'I don't know,' he said, with the slightest impatient warmth. 'We make the stuff as good as we can for the money. We supply what everyone wants. Don't you think it's better to please a thousand folks than to please ten? I like to feel that my ware is used all over the country and the colonies. I would sooner do as I do than make swagger ware for a handful of rich people.'
'Oh, yes,' she exclaimed, eagerly accepting the point of view, 'I quite agree with you.' She had never heard him in that vein87 before, and was struck by his enthusiasm. And Mynors was in fact always very enthusiastic concerning the virtues88 of the general markets. He had no sympathy with specialities, artistic89 or otherwise. He found his satisfaction in honestly meeting the public taste. He was born to be a manufacturer of cheap goods on a colossal90 scale. He could dream of fifty ovens, and his ambition blinded him to the present absurdity91 of talking about a three-oven bank spreading its productions all over the country and the colonies; it did not occur to him that there were yet scarcely enough plates to go round.
'I suppose we had better start at the start,' he said, leading the way to the slip-house. He did not need to be told that Anna was perfectly92 ignorant of the craft of pottery93, and that every detail of it, so stale to him, would acquire freshness under her naïve and inquiring gaze.
In the slip-house begins the long manipulation which transforms raw porous94 friable95 clay into the moulded, decorated and glazed96 vessel. The large whitewashed98 place was occupied by ungainly machines and receptacles through which the four sorts of clay used in the common 'body'—ball clay, China clay, flint clay and stone clay—were compelled to pass before they became a white putty-like mixture meet for shaping by human hands. The blunger crushed the clay, the sifter99 extracted the iron from it by means of a magnet, the press expelled the water, and the pug-mill expelled the air. From the last reluctant mouth slowly emerged a solid stream nearly a foot in diameter, like a huge white snake. Already the clay had acquired the uniformity characteristic of a manufactured product.
Anna moved to touch the bolts of the enormous twenty-four-chambered press.
'Don't stand there,' said Mynors. 'The pressure is tremendous, and if the thing were to burst——'
She fled hastily. 'But isn't it dangerous for the workmen?' she asked.
Eli Machin, the engineman, the oldest employee on the works, a moneyed man and the pattern of reliability101, allowed a vague smile to flit across his face at this remark. He had ascended102 from the engine-house below in order to exhibit the tricks of the various machines, and that done he disappeared. Anna was awed103 by the sensation of being surrounded by terrific forces always straining for release and held in check by the power of a single wall.
'Come and see a plate made: that is one of the simplest things, and the batting-machine is worth looking at,' said Mynors, and they went into the nearest shop, a hot interior in the shape of four corridors round a solid square middle. Here men and women were working side by side, the women subordinate to the men. All were preoccupied104, wrapped up in their respective operations, and there was the sound of irregular whirring movements from every part of the big room. The air was laden105 with whitish dust, and clay was omnipresent—on the floor, the walls, the benches, the windows, on clothes, hands and faces. It was in this shop, where both hollow-ware pressers and flat pressers were busy as only craftsmen106 on piecework can be busy, that more than anywhere else clay was to be seen 'in the hand of the potter.' Near the door a stout107 man with a good-humoured face flung some clay on to a revolving108 disc, and even as Anna passed a jar sprang into existence. One instant the clay was an amorphous109 mass, the next it was a vessel perfectly circular, of a prescribed width and a prescribed depth; the flat and apparently110 clumsy fingers of the craftsman111 had seemed to lose themselves in the clay for a fraction of time, and the miracle was accomplished. The man threw these vessels112 with the rapidity of a Roman candle throwing off coloured stars, and one woman was kept busy in supplying him with material and relieving his bench of the finished articles. Mynors drew Anna along to the batting-machines for plate makers113, at that period rather a novelty and the latest invention of the dead genius whose brain has reconstituted a whole industry on new lines. Confronted with a piece of clay, the batting-machine descended upon it with the ferocity of a wild animal, worried it, stretched it, smoothed it into the width and thickness of a plate, and then desisted of itself and waited inactive for the flat presser to remove its victim to his more exact shaping machine. Several men were producing plates, but their rapid labours seemed less astonishing than the preliminary feat of the batting-machine. All the ware as it was moulded disappeared into the vast cupboards occupying the centre of the shop, where Mynors showed Anna innumerable rows of shelves full of pots in process of steam-drying. Neither time nor space nor material was wasted in this ant-heap of industry. In order to move to and fro, the women were compelled to insinuate114 themselves past the stationary115 bodies of the men. Anna marvelled116 at the careless accuracy with which they fed the batting-machines with lumps precisely117 calculated to form a plate of a given diameter. Everyone exerted himself as though the salvation118 of the world hung on the production of so much stuff by a certain hour; dust, heat, and the presence of a stranger were alike unheeded in the mad creative passion.
'Now,' said Mynors the cicerone, opening another door which gave into the yard, 'when all that stuff is dried and fettled—smoothed, you know—it goes into the biscuit oven: that's the first firing. There's the biscuit oven, but we can't inspect it because it's just being drawn.'
He pointed37 to the oven near by, in whose dark interior the forms of men, naked to the waist, could dimly be seen struggling with the weight of saggars[2] full of ware. It seemed like some release of martyrs119, this unpacking120 of the immense oven, which, after being flooded with a sea of flame for fifty-four hours, had cooled for two days, and was yet hotter than the Equator. The inertness121 and pallor of the saggars seemed to be the physical result of their fiery122 trial, and one wondered that they should have survived the trial. Mynors went into the place adjoining the oven and brought back a plate out of an open saggar; it was still quite warm. It had the matt surface of a biscuit, and adhered slightly to the fingers: it was now a 'crook'; it had exchanged malleability123 for brittleness124, and nothing mortal could undo125 what the fire had done. Mynors took the plate with him to the biscuit-warehouse126, a long room where one was forced to keep to narrow alleys127 amid parterres of pots. A solitary128 biscuit-warehouseman was examining the ware in order to determine the remuneration of the pressers.
They climbed a flight of steps to the printing-shop, where, by means of copper-plates, printing-presses, mineral colours, and transfer-papers, most of the decoration was done. The room was filled by a little crowd of people—oldish men, women and girls, divided into printers, cutters, transferors and apprentices129. Each interminably repeated some trifling130 process, and every article passed through a succession of hands until at length it was washed in a tank and rose dripping therefrom with its ornament131 of flowers and scrolls132 fully18 revealed. The room smelt133 of oil and flannel134 and humanity; the atmosphere was more languid, more like that of a family party, than in the pressers' shop: the old women looked stern and shrewish, the pretty young women pert and defiant135, the younger girls meek136. The few men seemed out of place. By what trick had they crept into the very centre of that mass of femineity? It seemed wrong, scandalous that they should remain. Contiguous with the printing-shop was the painting-shop, in which the labours of the former were taken to a finish by the brush of the paintress, who filled in outlines with flat colour, and thus converted mechanical printing into handiwork. The paintresses form the noblesse of the banks. Their task is a light one, demanding deftness137 first of all; they have delicate fingers, and enjoy a general reputation for beauty: the wages they earn may be estimated from their finery on Sundays. They come to business in cloth jackets, carry dinner in little satchels138; in the shop they wear white aprons139, and look startlingly neat and tidy. Across the benches over which they bend their coquettish heads gossip flies and returns like a shuttle; they are the source of a thousand intrigues141, and one or other of them is continually getting married or omitting to get married. On the bank they constitute 'the sex.' An infinitesimal proportion of them, from among the branch known as ground-layers, die of lead-poisoning—a fact which adds pathos142 to their frivolous143 charm. In a subsidiary room off the painting-shop a single girl was seated at a revolving table actuated by a treadle. She was doing the 'band-and-line' on the rims145 of saucers. Mynors and Anna watched her as with her left hand she flicked146 saucer after saucer into the exact centre of the table, moved the treadle, and, holding a brush firmly against the rim144 of the piece, produced with infallible exactitude the band and the line. She was a brunette, about twenty-eight: she had a calm, vacuously147 contemplative face; but God alone knew whether she thought. Her work represented the summit of monotony; the regularity148 of it hypnotised the observer, and Mynors himself was impressed by this stupendous phenomenon of absolute sameness, involuntarily assuming towards it the attitude of a showman.
'She earns as much as eighteen shillings a week sometimes,' he whispered.
'May I try?' Anna timidly asked of a sudden, curious to experience what the trick was like.
'Certainly,' said Mynors, in eager assent149. 'Priscilla, let this lady have your seat a moment, please.'
The girl got up, smiling politely. Anna took her place.
'Here, try on this,' said Mynors, putting on the table the plate which he still carried.
'Take a full brush,' the paintress suggested, not attempting to hide her amusement at Anna's unaccustomed efforts. 'Now push the treadle. There! It isn't in the middle yet. Now!'
Anna produced a most creditable band, and a trembling but passable line, and rose flushed with the small triumph.
'You have the gift,' said Mynors; and the paintress respectfully applauded.
'I felt I could do it,' Anna responded. 'My mother's mother was a paintress, and it must be in the blood.'
Mynors smiled indulgently. They descended again to the ground floor, and following the course of manufacture came to the 'hardening-on' kiln150, a minor151 oven where for twelve hours the oil is burnt out of the colour in decorated ware. A huge, jolly man in shirt and trousers, with an enormous apron140, was in the act of drawing the kiln, assisted by two thin boys. He nodded a greeting to Mynors and exclaimed, 'Warm!' The kiln was nearly emptied. As Anna stopped at the door, the man addressed her.
'Step inside, miss, and try it.'
'No, thanks!' she laughed.
'Come now,' he insisted, as if despising this hesitation152. 'An ounce of experience——' The two boys grinned and wiped their foreheads with their bare skeleton-like arms. Anna, challenged by the man's look, walked quickly into the kiln. A blasting heat seemed to assault her on every side, driving her back; it was incredible that any human being could support such a temperature.
'There!' said the jovial153 man, apparently summing her up with his bright, quizzical eyes. 'You know summat as you didn't know afore, miss. Come along, lads,' he added with brisk heartiness154 to the boys, and the drawing of the kiln proceeded.
Next came the dipping-house, where a middle-aged155 woman, enveloped156 in a protective garment from head to foot, was dipping jugs157 into a vat24 of lead-glaze97, a boy assisting her. The woman's hands were covered with the grey, slimy glaze. She alone of all the employees appeared to be cool.
'That is the last stage but one,' said Mynors. 'There is only the glost-firing,' and they passed out into the yard once more. One of the glost-ovens was empty; they entered it and peered into the lofty inner chamber100, which seemed like the cold crater158 of an exhausted volcano, or like a vault159, or like the ruined seat of some forgotten activity. The other oven was firing, and Anna could only look at its exterior160, catching161 glimpses of the red glow at its twelve mouths, and guess at the Tophet, within, where the lead was being fused into glass.
'Now for the glost-warehouse, and you will have seen all,' said Mynors, 'except the mould-shop, and that doesn't matter.'
The warehouse was the largest place on the works, a room sixty-feet long and twenty broad, low, whitewashed, bare and clean. Piles of ware occupied the whole of the walls and of the immense floorspace, but there was no trace here of the soilure and untidiness incident to manufacture; all processes were at an end, clay had vanished into crock: and the calmness and the whiteness atoned162 for the disorder163, noise and squalor which had preceded. Here was a sample of the total and final achievement towards which the thousands of small, disjointed efforts that Anna had witnessed, were directed. And it seemed a miraculous164, almost impossible, result; so definite, precise and regular after a series of acts apparently variable, inexact and casual; so inhuman165 after all that intensely inhuman labour; so vast in comparison with the minuteness of the separate endeavours. As Anna looked, for instance, at a pile of tea-sets, she found it difficult even to conceive that, a fortnight or so before, they had been nothing but lumps of dirty clay. No stage of the manufacture was incredible by itself, but the result was incredible. It was the result that appealed to the imagination, authenticating166 the adage167 that fools and children should never see anything till it is done.
Anna pondered over the organising power, the forethought, the wide vision, and the sheer ingenuity and cleverness which were implied by the contents of this warehouse. 'What brains!' she thought, of Mynors; 'what quantities of all sorts of things he must know!' It was a humble168 and deeply-felt admiration.
Her spoken words gave no clue to her thoughts. 'You seem to make a fine lot of tea-sets,' she remarked.
'Oh, no,' he said carelessly. 'These few that you see here are a special order. I don't go in much for tea-sets: they don't pay; we lose fifteen per cent. of the pieces in making. It's toilet-ware that pays, and that is our leading line.' He waved an arm vaguely169 towards rows and rows of ewers170 and basins in the distance. They walked to the end of the warehouse, glancing at everything.
'See here,' said Mynors, 'isn't that pretty?' He pointed through the last window to a view of the canal, which could be seen thence in perspective, finishing in a curve. On one side, close to the water's edge, was a ruined and fragmentary building, its rich browns reflected in the smooth surface of the canal. On the other side were a few grim, grey trees bordering the towpath. Down the vista171 moved a boat steered172 by a woman in a large mob-cap. 'Isn't that picturesque173?' he said.
'Very,' Anna assented174 willingly. 'It's really quite strange, such a scene right in the middle of Bursley.'
'Oh! There are others,' he said. 'But I always take a peep at that whenever I come into the warehouse.'
'I wonder you find time to notice it—with all this place to see after,' she said. 'It's a splendid works!'
'It will do—to be going on with,' he answered, satisfied. 'I'm very glad you've been down. You must come again. I can see you would be interested in it, and there are plenty of things you haven't looked at yet, you know.'
He smiled at her. They were alone in the warehouse.
'Yes,' she said; 'I expect so. Well, I must go, at once; I'm afraid it's very late now. Thank you for showing me round, and explaining, and—I'm frightfully stupid and ignorant. Good-bye.'
Anna held out her hand, and he seized it almost convulsively, his incendiary eyes fastened on her face.
'I must see you out,' he said, dropping that ungloved hand.
It was ten o'clock that night before Ephraim Tellwright returned home from Axe. He appeared to be in a bad temper. Agnes had gone to bed. His supper of bread-and-cheese and water was waiting for him, and Anna sat at the table while he consumed it. He ate in silence, somewhat hungrily, and she did not deem the moment propitious177 for telling him about her visit to Mynors' works.
'Sent up?'
'Yes. Art fond, lass? I told him as he mun send up some more o' thy rent to-day—twenty-five pun. He's not sent?'
'I don't know,' she said timidly. 'I was out this afternoon.'
'Out, wast?'
'Mr. Mynors sent word to ask me to go down and look over the works; so I went. I thought it would be all right.'
'Well, it was'na all right. And I'd like to know what business thou hast gadding179 out, as soon as my back's turned. How can I tell whether Price sent up or not? And what's more, thou know's as th' house hadn't ought to be left.'
'I'm sorry,' she said pleasantly, with a determination to be meek and dutiful.
He grunted180. 'Happen he didna' send. And if he did, and found th' house locked up, he should ha' sent again. Bring me th' inkpot, and I'll write a note as Agnes must take when her goes to school to-morrow morning.'
Anna obeyed. 'They'll never be able to pay twenty-five pounds, father,' she ventured. 'They've paid thirty already, you know.'
'Less gab,' he said shortly, taking up the pen. 'Here—write it thysen.' He threw the pen towards her. 'Tell Titus if he doesn't pay five-and-twenty this wik, us'll put bailiffs in.'
'Won't it come better from you, father?' she pleaded.
'Whose property is it?' The laconic181 question was final. She knew she must obey, and began to write. But, realising that she would perforce meet both Titus Price and Willie on Sunday, she merely demanded the money, omitting the threat. Her hand trembled as she passed the note to him to read.
'Will that do?'
His reply was to tear the paper across. 'Put down what I tell ye,' he ordered, 'and don't let's have any more paper wasted.' Then he dictated182 a letter which was an ultimatum183 in three lines. 'Sign it,' he said.
She signed it, weeping. She could see the wistful reproach in Willie Price's eyes.
'I suppose,' her father said, when she bade him 'Good-night,' 'I suppose if I hadn't asked, I should ha' heard nowt o' this gadding-about wi' Mynors?'
'I was going to tell you I had been to the works, father,' she said.
'Going to!' That was his final blow, and having delivered it, he loosed the victim. 'Go to bed,' he said.
She went upstairs, resolutely184 read her Bible, and resolutely prayed.
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dividends
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| 红利( dividend的名词复数 )； 股息； 被除数； （足球彩票的）彩金 | |
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remittances
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| n.汇寄( remittance的名词复数 )；汇款，汇款额 | |
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begetting
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| v.为…之生父( beget的现在分词 )；产生，引起 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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diminution
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| n.减少；变小 | |
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phenomena
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| n.现象 | |
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revolve
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| vi.(使)旋转；循环出现 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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outlay
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| n.费用，经费，支出；v.花费 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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12
equitable
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| adj.公平的；公正的 | |
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13
conjuring
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| n.魔术 | |
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14
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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15
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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16
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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17
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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18
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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19
paradox
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| n.似乎矛盾却正确的说法；自相矛盾的人(物) | |
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20
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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21
bounty
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| n.慷慨的赠予物，奖金；慷慨，大方；施与 | |
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22
inviting
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| adj.诱人的，引人注目的 | |
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23
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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24
vat
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| n.(=value added tax)增值税，大桶 | |
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25
allocated
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| adj. 分配的 动词allocate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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26
partnership
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| n.合作关系，伙伴关系 | |
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27
adventitious
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| adj.偶然的 | |
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28
brutal
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| adj.残忍的，野蛮的，不讲理的 | |
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29
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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30
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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31
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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32
affixed
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| adj.[医]附着的，附着的v.附加( affix的过去式和过去分词 )；粘贴；加以；盖（印章） | |
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33
catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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34
urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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35
axe
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| n.斧子；v.用斧头砍，削减 | |
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36
metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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37
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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38
truancy
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| n.逃学，旷课 | |
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39
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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40
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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41
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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42
ware
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| n.(常用复数)商品，货物 | |
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43
piquant
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| adj.辛辣的，开胃的，令人兴奋的 | |
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44
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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45
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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46
compliant
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| adj.服从的，顺从的 | |
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47
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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48
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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49
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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50
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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51
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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52
aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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53
antiquity
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| n.古老；高龄；古物，古迹 | |
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54
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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55
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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56
supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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57
strenuous
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| adj.奋发的，使劲的；紧张的；热烈的，狂热的 | |
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58
heirship
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| n.继承权 | |
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59
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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60
relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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61
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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62
legacy
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| n.遗产，遗赠；先人(或过去)留下的东西 | |
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63
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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64
bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
blanches
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| v.使变白( blanch的第三人称单数 )；使（植物）不见阳光而变白；酸洗（金属）使有光泽；用沸水烫（杏仁等）以便去皮 | |
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66
aptitudes
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| （学习方面的）才能，资质，天资( aptitude的名词复数 ) | |
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67
coax
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| v.哄诱，劝诱，用诱哄得到，诱取 | |
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68
weavers
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| 织工，编织者( weaver的名词复数 ) | |
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69
dubbed
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|
| v.给…起绰号( dub的过去式和过去分词 )；把…称为；配音；复制 | |
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70
epithet
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| n.（用于褒贬人物等的）表述形容词，修饰语 | |
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71
vocation
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| n.职业，行业 | |
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72
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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73
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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74
superseded
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| [医]被代替的，废弃的 | |
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75
formerly
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|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
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76
collaborated
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| 合作( collaborate的过去式和过去分词 )； 勾结叛国 | |
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77
pervasive
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|
| adj.普遍的；遍布的，(到处)弥漫的；渗透性的 | |
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78
corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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79
devoted
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|
| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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80
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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81
judicious
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|
| adj.明智的，明断的，能作出明智决定的 | |
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82
providence
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| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
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83
respite
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|
| n.休息，中止，暂缓 | |
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84
exhausted
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|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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85
crate
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| vt.(up)把…装入箱中；n.板条箱，装货箱 | |
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86
crateful
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| 篮[箱]的量 | |
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87
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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88
virtues
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| 美德( virtue的名词复数 )； 德行； 优点； 长处 | |
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89
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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90
colossal
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|
| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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91
absurdity
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|
| n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 | |
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92
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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93
pottery
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| n.陶器，陶器场 | |
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94
porous
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|
| adj.可渗透的，多孔的 | |
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95
friable
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|
| adj.易碎的 | |
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96
glazed
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|
| adj.光滑的，像玻璃的；上过釉的；呆滞无神的v.装玻璃( glaze的过去式)；上釉于，上光；（目光）变得呆滞无神 | |
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97
glaze
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| v.因疲倦、疲劳等指眼睛变得呆滞，毫无表情 | |
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98
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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99
sifter
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| n.（用于筛撒粉状食物的）筛具，撒粉器；滤器；罗圈；罗 | |
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100
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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101
reliability
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| n.可靠性，确实性 | |
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102
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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103
awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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104
preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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105
laden
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| adj.装满了的；充满了的；负了重担的；苦恼的 | |
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106
craftsmen
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| n. 技工 | |
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108
revolving
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|
| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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109
amorphous
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| adj.无定形的 | |
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110
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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111
craftsman
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| n.技工，精于一门工艺的匠人 | |
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112
vessels
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| n.血管( vessel的名词复数 )；船；容器；（具有特殊品质或接受特殊品质的）人 | |
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113
makers
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| n.制造者，制造商（maker的复数形式） | |
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114
insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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115
stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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116
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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117
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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118
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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119
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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120
unpacking
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| n.取出货物，拆包[箱]v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的现在分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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121
inertness
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| n.不活泼，没有生气；惰性；惯量 | |
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122
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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123
malleability
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| n.可锻性，可塑性，延展性 | |
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124
brittleness
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| n.脆性，脆度，脆弱性 | |
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125
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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126
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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127
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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128
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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129
apprentices
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| 学徒，徒弟( apprentice的名词复数 ) | |
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130
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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131
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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132
scrolls
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| n.（常用于录写正式文件的）纸卷( scroll的名词复数 )；卷轴；涡卷形（装饰）；卷形花纹v.（电脑屏幕上）从上到下移动（资料等），卷页( scroll的第三人称单数 )；（似卷轴般）卷起；（像展开卷轴般地）将文字显示于屏幕 | |
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133
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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134
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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135
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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136
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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137
deftness
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138
satchels
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| n.书包( satchel的名词复数 ) | |
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139
aprons
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| 围裙( apron的名词复数 )； 停机坪，台口（舞台幕前的部份） | |
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140
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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141
intrigues
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| n.密谋策划( intrigue的名词复数 )；神秘气氛；引人入胜的复杂情节v.搞阴谋诡计( intrigue的第三人称单数 )；激起…的好奇心 | |
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142
pathos
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| n.哀婉，悲怆 | |
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143
frivolous
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| adj.轻薄的；轻率的 | |
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144
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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145
rims
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| n.（圆形物体的）边( rim的名词复数 )；缘；轮辋；轮圈 | |
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146
flicked
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| （尤指用手指或手快速地）轻击( flick的过去式和过去分词 )； （用…）轻挥； （快速地）按开关； 向…笑了一下（或瞥了一眼等） | |
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147
vacuously
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| adv.无意义地，茫然若失地，无所事事地 | |
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148
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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149
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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150
kiln
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| n.（砖、石灰等）窑，炉；v.烧窑 | |
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151
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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152
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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153
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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154
heartiness
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| 诚实，热心 | |
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155
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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156
enveloped
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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157
jugs
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| （有柄及小口的）水壶( jug的名词复数 ) | |
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158
crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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159
vault
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| n.拱形圆顶，地窖，地下室 | |
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160
exterior
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| adj.外部的，外在的；表面的 | |
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161
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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162
atoned
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| v.补偿，赎（罪）( atone的过去式和过去分词 )；补偿，弥补，赎回 | |
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163
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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164
miraculous
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| adj.像奇迹一样的，不可思议的 | |
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165
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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166
authenticating
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| v.证明是真实的、可靠的或有效的( authenticate的现在分词 )；鉴定，使生效 | |
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167
adage
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| n.格言，古训 | |
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168
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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169
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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170
ewers
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| n.大口水壶，水罐( ewer的名词复数 ) | |
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171
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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172
steered
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| v.驾驶( steer的过去式和过去分词 )；操纵；控制；引导 | |
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173
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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174
assented
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| 同意，赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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175
vapid
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| adj.无味的；无生气的 | |
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176
trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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177
propitious
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| adj.吉利的；顺利的 | |
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178
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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179
gadding
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| n.叮搔症adj.蔓生的v.闲逛( gad的现在分词 )；游荡；找乐子；用铁棒刺 | |
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180
grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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181
laconic
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| adj.简洁的；精练的 | |
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182
dictated
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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183
ultimatum
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| n.最后通牒 | |
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184
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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