"We want a living wage," he said.
"Living wage?" repeated John dully. This was an entirely unfamiliar situation, and he was equipped neither by temperament nor training to deal with unfamiliar situations. Mary realized the misery of his hesitation. "How much do you want?' he asked.
"Three pound," began Parker.
Waite elbowed him roughly.
"Three pund ten, you fool!" he prompted.
"Three pund ten, maister," repeated Parker. The "maister" came scornfully.
John's eyes glanced from one to the other to find a single light of friendliness. One by one the men turned away except Parker and Waite, who looked straight at him, one with surly defiance the other with barely concealed contempt.
"Look here, haven't I always treated you decently?"
John's voice sounded strained and feeble. He ran his hand round the collar of his shirt. Beads of perspiration stood out on his forehead.
Mary could bear it no longer. She came forward and stood by her husband.