“But he isn’t a priest, I tell you.”
The man looked far from satisfied. He said:
“He is not a priest, and yet can read?”
“He is not a priest and yet can read—yes, and write, too, for that matter. I taught him myself.” The man’s face cleared. “And it is the first thing that you yourself will be taught in that Factory—”
“I? I would give blood out of my heart to know that art. Why, I will be your slave, your—”
“No you won’t, you won’t be anybody’s slave. Take your family and go along. Your lord the bishop will confiscate your small property, but no matter. Clarence will fix you all right.”