"But ... isn't it cruel? Oughtn't they to kill them?"
"It would take a long time to kill all those fish," she said. "Most of them are dead already, and the others will be dead soon...."
But he could not rid himself of the feeling that the fish were suffering agonies, and he began to feel sick with pity.
"I think I'll go and see Mary and Ninian," he said to Mrs. Graham, edging away from the boat.
"All right," she replied.
But Ninian and Mary were on their way down to the boats, and so he did not get far.
"Come and see them cutting up the skate and dun-cows!" said Ninian, catching hold of Henry's arm and pulling him back.
"Yes, let's," Mary added.
The sick feeling was growing stronger in Henry. He hated the sight of blood. Once he had been ill in the street because William Henry Matier had shown a dead rabbit to him, the blood dribbling from its mouth ... and the sight of a butcher's shop always filled him with nausea. He did not wish to see the skate cut up, but he felt that Mary would despise him if he did not go with Ninian and her, so he followed after them.
The fishermen were sharpening their knives on the stones when they came up to them, and then one of them seized a dun-cow and struck its head on the shingle and cut it open, while another fisherman inserted his knife into the quivering body of a skate and cut out the entrails and the head in circular pieces.