“Yes, willingly. Don’t you find your work makes things easier? I thought that would help.”
“Ah’ve been too long idle, lad. Work doesn’t do what it used to. Ah used to lose maself in’t, but now Ah just seem in a dream, thinkin’, thinkin’; an’ when one speaks ta me sudden, Ah have to pull maself back from a distance like, before Ah can understand what’s said; an’ all th’ while the throb d’ the machinery is beat in’ out the Dead March. Once or twice Ah’ve seen Langly sittin’ playin’ at the far end o’ the room wi’ the machines all answerin’ to his fingers, while Ah knew he’d ne’er been i’ the shops in’s life. Ah’ve stood there wi’ ma jaw hangin’ an’ wi’ people lookin’ at me curious. Then when Ah’d rubbed ma eyes, Langly was gone, but the machinery kept on an’ on.”
“Oh, you mustn’t think too much about what is past, Braunt. Everything will be all right in a little while. Stick hard at your work; that’s the main thing. You are foreman of the upper room now, aren’t you?”
“Yes. Sartwell’s been kind ta me. Ah! he’s a man, Sartwell is. There’s no waverin’ about him.”
“That’s true.”
“He sticks by them as sticks by him, as a man should. Has he said anythin’ to you, since the strike ended?”
“No.”
“You’re young, but your time’ll come. You stand by Sartwell an’ he’ll see you through. He knows how you tried to end the strike, an’ he’ll not forget. Ah’ll drop in a word for ye when Ah get the chance.”
“I wish you wouldn’t do that.”
“Why? It’ll do no harm.”