Later, she took her work and sat in the window. Her thoughts, as indeed was always the case now, were with Tony. She made up stories for him, imagined what he was doing at the moment and what the people were like to whom he was talking. She still felt sure that he would come and see them that afternoon. Then the door opened, and she knew that her father had returned. She did not turn round, but sat with her back to the door, facing the window. She could see a corner of the street with its shining cobbles, a dark clump of houses, a strip of the sky. The noise of the market came distantly up to her, and some cart rattled round the corner very, very faintly; the sound of the mining-stamp swung like a hammer through the air.
She heard him step across the room and stand waiting behind her. She was not afraid of him now; she knew that he had come back to apologise. She hated that as much as the rage, it seemed to hurt just as badly. She bent her head a little lower over her work.
“Janet,” he spoke imploringly behind her.
“Father!” She turned and smiled up at him.
He bent down and kissed her. “Janet! dear, I’m so sorry. I really can’t think why I was angry. You know I do get impatient sometimes, and that man had made me angry by the things he said.”
He stood away from her with his head hanging like a child who was waiting to be punished.
“No, father, please don’t.” She stood up and looked at him. “You know it is very naughty of you, and after you promised so faithfully last time that you wouldn’t get angry like that again. It’s no use promising if you never keep it, you know. And then think of all the china you’ve broken.”
“Yes, I know.” He shook his head dolefully. “I don’t know what it is, my dear. I never seem to get any better. And I don’t mean anything, you know. I really don’t mean anything.”
But she doubted that a little as she looked at him. She knew that, although his rage might pass, he did not forget. She had known him cherish things in his head long after they had passed from the other man’s memory, and she had seen him take his revenge. Who was this man who had insulted him? A sudden fear seized her. Supposing . . .
“Father,” she said, looking up at him, “who was it said things to you this morning that made you angry?”