“No, there is no justice.”
A long way beneath something in the town was dropped with a clang, while a tug coming up the river whistled to get through the lock, a long shriek which shivered through the trees. Birds circled in specks round the Abbey tower. There was no wind and on the hill smoke from a cottage fire drifted straight up towards the blue sky, for the sun was shining. Just in front, in the meadow by the edge of the wood, a rabbit was feeding quietly, trembling at being alive. And they sat together against a tree, he with his head on one side to catch what was going on, and she dozing, with the world drifting in and out of her mind.
“I hate this easy life with the millions toiling there.”
“I don’t find it easy.”
“No, I suppose not. But I will do something, even if I am blind.”
She pulled a wisp of hair away from her face and rearranged the ragged scarf about her neck.
“I expect you will, John.”
“Do you think so?”
“Yes, I do.”
A confused shouting came from the lock, into which the barges were being packed. Several dogs were barking at each other while men ran about. The rabbit sat up and listened.