ODOUR OF CHRYSANTHEMUMS
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black headstocks of Brinsley Colliery. The two
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wheels were spinning fast up against the sky, and
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the winding-engine rapped out its little spasms.
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The miners were being turned up. 5
The engine whistled as it came into the wide bay
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of railway lines beside the colliery, where rows of
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trucks stood in harbour. 8
Miners, single, trailing and in groups, passed like
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shadows diverging home. At the edge of the ribbed
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level of sidings squat* a low cottage, three steps
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down from the cinder track. A large bony vine
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clutched at the house, as if to claw down the tiled
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roof. Round the bricked yard grew a few wintry
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primroses. Beyond, the long garden sloped down
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to a bush-covered brook course. There were some
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twiggy apple trees, winter-crack trees*, and ragged
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cabbages. Beside the path hung dishevelled
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pink chrysanthemums, like pink cloths hung on
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bushes. A woman came stooping out of the felt-
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covered fowl-house, half-way down the garden.
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She closed and padlocked the door, then drew
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herself erect, having brushed some bits from her
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white apron. 24
She was a tall woman of imperious mien, hand-
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some, with definite black eyebrows. Her smooth
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black hair was parted exactly. For a few moments
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she stood steadily watching the miners as they
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passed along the railway : then she turned towards
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the brook course. Her face was calm and set, her
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mouth was closed with disillusionment. After a
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moment she called : 32
" John ! " There was no answer. She waited,
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and then said distinctly :
