“They’ll soon be pale enough,” another interrupted.
“And such white teeth!”
“They’ll soon be yellow!”
“And such long hair!”
“It’ll soon be full o’ dust.”
But they said no more, perhaps because Norah was so beautiful, and beauty calls forth respect in even the coarsest people.
The new start had many troubles at first. Being new to the work and unable to do as much as the other women, she was paid only five shillings a week. After a while the natural dexterity of her fingers stood her in good stead, and she became more adept at the rag-picking than anyone in the basement. Therefore her companions who had before laughed at her inexperience became jealous of Norah and accused her of trying to find favour with the boss.
But the girl did not mind much what they said; her one great regret was in being separated from her boy for the whole livelong day. Her breasts were full of the milk of motherhood, and severance from the little child was one of the greatest crosses which she had to bear.
The master seldom came near the place; it didn’t agree with his health, he said. He was a stout, well-built man with small, glistening eyes overhung with heavy red brows. The hairs of his nostrils reached half-way down his upper lip and he was very bald. When the women saw the bald head appear at the foot of the basement stairs, shining a little as the gaslight caught it, they whispered:
“There’s the full moon; turn yer money!” and one of the workers who was very fond of swearing would invariably answer: “There’s not much money in the pockets o’ them that’s workin’ in this damned hole!”