"Can't! ... Why do these ghastly louts try to walk over you as if they didn't see you?" Then in another tone, very quietly, and nodding in the direction of the Orgreave offices: "Been in there? ... What a week, eh! ... How are things?"
"Bad," Edwin answered. "In a word, bad!"
Ingpen lifted his eyebrows.
They turned away out of the crowd, up towards the tranquillity of the Turnhill Road. They were manifestly glad to see each other. Edwin had had a satisfactory interview with Johnnie Orgreave,--satisfactory in the sense that Johnnie had admitted the wisdom of all that Edwin said and promised to act on it.
"I've just been talking to young Johnnie for his own good," said Edwin.
And in a moment, with eagerness, with that strange deep satisfaction felt by the carrier of disastrous tidings, he told Ingpen all that he knew of the plight of Janet Orgreave.
"If you ask me," said he, "I think it's infamous."
"Infamous," Ingpen repeated the word savagely. "There's no word for it. What'll she do?"
"Well, I suppose she'll have to live with Johnnie."
"And where will Mrs. Chris come in, then?" Ingpen asked in a murmur.