“Why!” he said at last: and she felt the curious quiver of changing consciousness and relaxation going through his body. “Why, I’ve thought sometimes if one but tried, here among th’ colliers even! They workin’ bad now, an’ not earnin’ much. If a man could say to ’em: Dunna think o’ nowt but th’ money. When it comes ter wants , we want but little. Let’s not live for money.”

She softly rubbed her cheek on his belly, and gathered his balls in her hand. The penis stirred softly, with strange life, but did not rise up. The rain beat bruisingly outside.