Again the bell gave its buzzing ring, as he opened the door and went out.
5
Tom’s heart had sunk rather low before he came to Worge. He was always dissatisfied with himself after seeing Thryza. He never seemed able to find anything to say, just because she was the person he liked most in the world to talk to. He felt that he must be very different from the other men who came to see her—for men liked Thyrza—who could make even the buying of a penn’orth of sweets an occasion for artful sally and interesting conversation. That reminded him that he had left all his purchases on the counter. What an unaccountable fool he was! However, he would not go back for them. They must wait till to-morrow. Still, he wished he hadn’t left them. Thyrza would think him silly, and besides he had wanted to give those sweets to his brothers and sisters. He nearly always brought them something when he went into the town.
They were all at supper in the kitchen—he could hear their voices. He wondered if his father had come back yet. He had not, for the first question that greeted his entrance was:
“Whur’s your faather, Tom?”
“I left him at Woods Corner. I’d have thought he’d bin home by now.”
“Then you thought silly. ’T’aun’t likely as he’ll come home till they close. You should have stopped along of un.”
“I thought I’d better git back home and tell you the news.”
“And wot’s that? Have they let you off?”
“Not they. A fortnight’s final.”