He had sold his beast as quickly as he could。 But all the
business was not finished。 He took her again through the
hurtling welter of the cattle…market。
Then at last they turned and went out through the gate。 He
was always hailing one man or another； always stopping to gossip
about land and cattle and horses and other things she did not
understand； standing in the filth and the smell； among the legs
and great boots of men。 And always she heard the questions：
〃What lass is that； then？ I didn't know tha'd one o' that
age。〃
〃It belongs to my missis。〃
Anna was very conscious of her derivation from her mother； in
the end； and of her alienation。
But at last they were away； and Brangwen went with her into a
little dark； ancient eating…house in the Bridlesmith…Gate。 They
had cow's…tail soup； and meat and cabbage and potatoes。 Other
men； other people； came into the dark； vaulted place； to eat。
Anna was wide…eyed and silent with wonder。
Then they went into the big market； into the corn exchange；
then to shops。 He bought her a little book off a stall。 He loved
buying things； odd things that he thought would be useful。 Then
they went to the 〃Black Swan〃； and she drank milk and he brandy；
and they harnessed the horse and drove off； up the Derby
Road。
She was tired out with wonder and marvelling。 But the next
day； when she thought of it； she skipped； flipping her leg in
the odd dance she did； and talked the whole time of what had
happened to her； of what she had seen。 It lasted her all the
week。 And the next Saturday she was eager to go again。
She became a familiar figure in the cattle…market； sitting
waiting in the little booth。 But she liked best to go to Derby。
There her father had more friends。 And she liked the familiarity
of the smaller town； the nearness of the river； the strangeness
that did not frighten her； it was so much smaller。 She liked the
covered…in market； and the old women。 She liked the 〃George
Inn〃； where her father put up。 The landlord was Brangwen's old
friend； and Anna was made much of。 She sat many a day in the
cosy parlour talking to Mr。 Wigginton； a fat man with red hair；
the landlord。 And when the farmers all gathered at twelve
o'clock for dinner； she was a little heroine。
At first she would only glower or hiss at these strange men
with their uncouth accent。 But they were good…humoured。 She was
a little oddity； with her fierce； fair hair like spun glass
sticking out in a flamy halo round the apple…blossom face and
the black eyes； and the men liked an oddity。 She kindled their
attention。
She was very angry because Marriott； a gentleman…farmer from
Ambergate； called her the little pole…cat。
〃Why； you're a pole…cat；〃 he said to her。
〃I'm not；〃 she flashed。
〃You are。 That's just how a pole…cat goes。〃
She thought about it。
〃Well； you're……you're〃 she began。
〃I'm what？〃
She looked him up and down。
〃You're a bow…leg man。〃
Which he was。 There was a roar of laughter。 They loved her
that she was indomitable。
〃Ah；〃 said Marriott。 〃Only a pole…cat says that。〃
〃Well； I am a pole…cat；〃 she flamed。
There was another roar of laughter from the men。
They loved to tease her。
〃Well； me little maid；〃 Braithwaite would say to her； 〃an'
how's th' lamb's wool？〃
He gave a tug at a glistening； pale piece of her hair。
〃It's not lamb's wool；〃 said Anna； indignantly putting back
her offended lock。
〃Why； what'st ca' it then？〃
〃It's hair。〃
〃Hair！ Wheriver dun they rear that sort？〃
〃Wheriver dun they？〃 she asked； in dialect； her curiosity
overing her。
Instead of answering he shouted with joy。 It was the triumph；
to make her speak dialect。
She had one enemy； the man they called Nut…Nat； or Nat…Nut； a
cretin； with inturned feet； who came flap…lapping along；
shoulder jerking up at every step。 This poor creature sold nuts
in the public…houses where he was known。 He had no roof to his
mouth； and the men used to mock his speech。
The first time he came into the 〃George〃 when Anna was there；
she asked； after he had gone； her eyes very round：
〃Why does he do that when he walks？〃
〃'E canna 'elp 'isself； Duckie； it's th' make o' th'
fellow。〃
She thought about it； then she laughed nervously。 And then
she bethought herself； her cheeks flushed； and she cried：
〃He's a horrid man。〃
〃Nay； he's non horrid； he canna help it if he wor struck that
road。〃
But when poor Nat came wambling in again； she slid away。 And
she would not eat his nuts； if the men bought them for her。 And
when the farmers gambled at dominoes for them； she was
angry。
〃They are dirty…man's nuts；〃 she cried。
So a revulsion started against Nat； who had not long after to
go to the workhouse。
There grew in Brangwen's heart now a secret desire to make
her a lady。 His brother Alfred； in Nottingham； had caused a
great scandal by being the lover of an educated woman； a
lady； widow of a doctor。 Very often； Alfred Brangwen went down
as a friend to her cottage； which was in Derbyshire； leaving his
wife and family for a day or two； then returning to them。 And
no…one dared gainsay him； for he was a strong…willed； direct
man； and he said he was a friend of this widow。
One day Brangwen met his brother on the station。
〃Where are you going to； then？〃 asked the younger
brother。
〃I'm going down to Wirksworth。〃
〃You've got friends down there； I'm told。〃
〃Yes。〃
〃I s'll have to be lookin' in when I'm down that road。〃
〃You please yourself。〃
Tom Brangwen was so curious about the woman that the next
time he was in Wirksworth he asked for her house。
He found a beautiful cottage on the steep side of a hill；
looking clean over the town； that lay in the bottom of the
basin； and away at the old quarries on the opposite side of the
space。 Mrs。 Forbes was in the garden。 She was a tall woman with
white hair。 She came up the path taking off her thick gloves；
laying down her shears。 It was autumn。 She wore a wide…brimmed
hat。
Brangwen blushed to the roots of his hair； and did not know
what to say。
〃I thought I might look in；〃 he said； 〃knowing you were
friends of my brother's。 I had to e to Wirksworth。〃
She saw at once that he was a Brangwen。
〃Will you e in？〃 she said。 〃My father is lying down。〃
She took him into a drawing…room； full of books； with a piano
and a violin…stand。 And they talked； she simply and easily。 She
was full of dignity。 The room was of a kind Brangwen had never
known； the atmosphere seemed open and spacious； like a
mountain…top to him。
〃Does my brother like reading？〃 he asked。
〃Some things。 He has been reading Herbert Spencer。 And we
read Browning sometimes。〃
Brangwen was full of admiration； deep thrilling； almost
reverential admiration。 He looked at her with lit…up eyes when
she said； 〃we read〃。 At last he burst out； looking round the
room：
〃I didn't know our Alfred was this way inclined。〃
〃He is quite an unusual man。〃
He looked at her in amazement。 She evidently had a new idea
of his brother： she evidently appreciated him。 He looked again
at the woman。 She was about forty； straight； rather hard； a
curious； separate creature。 Himself； he was not in love with
her； there was something chilling about her。 But he was filled
with boundless admiration。
At tea…time he was introduced to her father； an invalid who
had to be helped about； but who was ruddy and well…favoured；
with snowy hair and watery blue eyes； and a courtly naive manner
that again was new and strange to Brangwen； so suave； so merry；
so innocent。
His brother was this woman's lover！ It was too amazing。
Brangwen went home despising himself for his own poor way of
life。 He was a clod…hopper and a boor； dull； stuck in the mud。
More than ever he wanted to clamber out； to this visionary
polite world。
He was well off。 He was as well off as Alfred； who could not
have above six hundred a year； all told。 He himself made about
four hundred； and could make more。 His investments got better
every day。 Why did he not do something？ His wife was a lady
also。
But when he got to the Marsh； he realized how fixed
everything was； how the other form of life was beyond him； and
he regretted for the first time that he had succeeded to the
farm。 He felt a prisoner； sitting safe and easy and
unadventurous。 He might； with risk； have done more with himself。
He could neither read Browning nor Herbert Spencer； nor have
access to such a room as Mrs。 Forbes's。 All that form of life
was outside him。
But then； he said he did not want it。 The excitement of the
visit began to pass off。 The next day he was himself； and if he
thought of the other woman； there was something about her and
her place that he did not like； something cold something alien；
as if she were not a woman； but an inhuman being who used up
human life for cold； unliving purposes。
The evening came on； he played with Anna； and then sat alone
with his own wife。 She was sewing。 He sat very still； smoking；
perturbed。 He was aware of his wife's quiet figure； and quiet
dark head bent over her needle。 It 。 It was
too peaceful。 He wanted to smash the walls down； and let the
night in； so that his wife should not be so secure and quiet；
sitting there。 He wished the air were not so close and narrow。
His wife was obliterated from him； she was in her own world；
quiet； secure； unnoticed； unnoticing。 He was shut down by
her。
He rose to go out。 He could not sit still any longer。 He must
get out of this oppressive； shut…down； woman…haunt。
His wife lifted her head and looked at him。
〃Are you going out？〃 she asked。
He looked down and met her eyes。 They were darker than
darkness； and gave deeper space。 He felt himself retreating
before her； defensive； whilst her eyes followed and tracked him
own。
〃I was just going up to Cossethay；〃 he said。
She remained watching him。
〃Why do you go？〃 she said。
His heart beat fast； and he sat down； slowly。
〃No reason particular；〃 he said； beginning to fill his pipe
again； mechanically。
〃Why do you go away so often？〃 she said。
〃But you don't want me；〃 he replied。
She was silent for a while。
〃You do not want to be with me any more；〃 she said。
It startled him。 How did