"All the better," he said. "Another trump for us to play. Don't you worrit. The Labour Party in Parliament's disappointed all its supporters so far, but it's going to justify itself at last. One thing. They can't trample on us this time, the Fats canna. We're too well organised." They walked down the hill together. At the stile opposite the Drill Hall where six months before she had rescued Ernie, drenched and dripping, from the police, they turned off into Saffrons Croft in the direction of the Town Hall. Joe, as he trod the grass beneath his feet, became sombre, silent. The woman sweeping along at his side, her shawl about her head, felt his change of mood. The Other was coming to the top again--the One she feared. She was right. The Other it was who spoke surlily and growling, out of his deeps, like the voice of a yard-dog from his kennel. "Well, what's it going to be?" Her heart galloped but she met him gaily. "What you mean, Joe?" "You know what I mean," bearing down on her remorselessly. She made a half halt. "O Joe!" "Aye, you may O Joe me! That wunna better it." "And after what you promised him solemn that night and all." He answered moodily. "He forced me to it. Took advantage. Shouldn't ha done it. Springin it on me without a word. That's not the game." Ruth turned on him. "You're the one to talk, aren't you?" she said, flashing the corner of an eye at him. "Playing the game prarper, you are?" He barged ahead, sullen as a bull and as obstinate. "A don't know; and A don't care. A know what A want and A know A'm going to get it." She met him light as a rapier thrust. "I thart you was a man, Joe." "Better'n a no-man anyway." She stopped dead and faced him. "Where's my no-man now then?" she cried. "And where are you?" That time she had planted her dart home. He glared at her savage, sullen, and with lowered head. "Thou doesna say A'm a coward?" Slowly she answered, "I'm none so sure.--Ern's my soldier, Ern is." He gripped her arm. "I'll go home," she said, curt as the cut of a whip. He relaxed. "Nay," he answered. "If we're to fight for your children yo mun help." She threw off his arm with a gesture of easy dignity. Then they walked on again together down Saffrons Road towards the Town Hall. CHAPTER XXXVII MRS. LEWKNOR The Town Hall was crowded. The Mayor, who was in the chair, had spoken on behalf of the Prince of Wales's Fund and announced that subscriptions would be received by the Town Clerk. Thereafter an indescribable orgie of patriotism had taken place. Red-necked men outbid fat women. The bids mounted; the bidders grew fiercer; the cheers waxed. And all the while a little group of Trade Unionists at the back of the hall kept up a dismal chaunt-- We don't want charity, We won't have charity. Then a little dapper figure in the blue of a chauffeur rose in the body of the hall.