“You sit a minute, mother,” he said, and she took a seat on a bank, whilst he sketched rapidly. She was silent whilst he worked, looking round at the afternoon, the red cottages shining among their greenness.
“The world is a wonderful place,” she said, “and wonderfully beautiful.”
“And so’s the pit,” he said. “Look how it heaps together, like something alive almost — a big creature that you don’t know.”
“Yes,” she said. “Perhaps!”
“And all the trucks standing waiting, like a string of beasts to be fed,” he said.