“Where are you going?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders. “To find room,” he said.
“There is room for you near here,” said the woman, “if you’ll work.”
“At what?” he asked.
“Machinery, harvesting machinery, agricultural machinery of all sorts.”
“Where?” asked Thrale.
She dropped her voice and looked about her. “Marlow,” she said. “It—it’s an eddy. Off the main roads and by the river. There are less than a thousand women there at present, and we are keeping the others out; at least until after harvest. There is plenty of land about, and we’re keeping ourselves at present. Only we do want a man for the machines. Will you come and help us?”
“I’ll come and see what I can do,” said Thrale “I won’t promise to stay.”
“Aren’t there any other men, there?” he added after a moment’s hesitation.
“One at Wycombe,” said the women. “He’s a butcher, but——”