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looking at Peggy.
    He was a tall boy for his age. His hair was cut short but it was thick and dark. His eyebrows, too, were dark, as were the eyelashes; his blue eyes were large and set well apart. His nose was in proportion to the length of his face, which was longish and pale in comparison with his dark hair, and on first glance he could have appeared promisingly handsome, except that his mouth was full-lipped and slack. It hung now slightly open.
    "Well!" His father was addressing him.
    "No need to make any introductions, is there? I suppose you know why she's here?"
    "No."
    "Come off it, our Andy," and the interjection caused the mother to half rise from her chair. With her finger thrust out towards her daughter, she said, "Another word from you and you
    52.
    know what you'll get. Anyway, go on! Get out of the room. "
    When her daughter didn't move she turned and, almost glaring at Lizzie, she said, "You know what I think? I think it's a damned cheek you coming here and blaming him ... " Shut up! will you, Carrie. " The man now turned and, looking straight at his son, demanded, " Have you been with this lass? "
    The straight question obviously shook the boy: he blinked rapidly, pulled his mouth to one side and bit on his lip, and seemed about to speak when his father said, "All right, that's evidence enough. The thing now is, what's to be done about it? You're a bloody fool. You know that? Your career's gone to blazes, whatever it was going to be, because the situation is this: if you don't marry her' with a jerk of his head he indicated Peggy 'they'll make you stump up, an' that means leavin' school and getting' a job."
    "He's not going to."
    James Jones turned his head slowly and looked at his wife, then as slowly he turned again to look at his son and continued to speak to him: "The choice is up to you. But at this stage what I think should be done is to let you two youngsters have a talk about it. I don't know whether the lass wants to marry but her mother seems intent on it." He spoke as if neither Lizzie nor Peggy were in the room. Then, getting to his feet, he said, "Now, take the lass into the front room."
    His wife, too, was quickly on her feet, saying, "They can't go in there, it's in a mess."
    "Well, it shouldn't be in a mess, woman." He was a tall man and, towering over her now, he ended, "If you'd get off your backside instead of looking at that bloody telly at night ... Oh! what does it matter. Come on, you two."
    He walked to the kitchen door and pulled it open, then waited and watched Peggy slowly rise from her seat; but when Lizzie put in, "I think I should be ... he said, " Stop thinkin', missis, at least for her. She's old enough. They've had a try and she's carryin' a hairn, so she should be able to think for herself. Come on. "
    The impatient movement of his head seemed to jerk the two young people past him and out of the room, across the passage and into the
    sitting-room.
    And Peggy saw straightaway that it really was in a mess, as her granny would have said, it had never seen a duster since they were made.
    There were papers on the floor, two ashtrays lying on a cheap coffee table were full of cigarette ends, and there was a smell in the room suggesting damp or lack of air.
    After the door closed on them they stood well apart, not looking at each other, and as he walked
    towards the window she said in no small voice, "We're supposed to talk this out, so let's get it over with."
    This brought him quickly about and, looking at her, he said very quietly, "It wasn't all my fault; you were ready and willing."
    "I wasn't! You told me there was a horse there and a young neglected pony."
    "Well, there used to be."
    "There might have been, but they hadn't been there for a long time."
    "You ... you didn't need much persuasion."
    She turned her head away from him and looked towards the brown-painted door. He was right, he was quite right; she had been curious, she had wanted to grow up. She'd had an unease in