“I’ll make them myself. And I’ll use my fuel myself. And I’ll sell electric power. I’m certain I could do it.”

“If you can do it, then splendid, splendid, my dear boy. Haw! Splendid! If I can be of any help, I shall be delighted. I’m afraid I am a little out of date, and my collieries are like me. But who knows, when I’m gone, there may be men like you. Splendid! It will employ all the men again, and you won’t have to sell your coal, or fail to sell it. A splendid idea, and I hope it will be a success. If I had sons of my own, no doubt they would have up-to-date ideas for Shipley: no doubt! By the way, dear boy, is there any foundation to the rumour that we may entertain hopes of an heir to Wragby?”

“Is there a rumour?” asked Clifford.

“Well, my dear boy, Marshall from Fillingwood asked me , that’s all I can say about a rumour. Of course I wouldn’t repeat it for the world, if there were no foundation.”