Hearing a rustle by his side as he spoke, Paul turned and saw that the customer who had been talking with the shopkeeper was looking straight at him, and his heart beat violently as the eyes of the two met. It was a young girl he saw, not more than twenty years of age, and, as far as he knew, she was a stranger to the town. He had never seen her before, and she appeared different from the young women with whom he had happened to meet. He noticed, too, as their eyes met, that hers were full of horror. She seemed to regard him as she might regard a snarling dog. He saw her lips quiver, and he thought for a moment that she was about to speak to him. The intensity of her gaze made him almost beside himself, and then, acting on the impulse of the moment, and speaking with the freedom so common to the Lancashire operative class, he went on: "Yes, miss, and I mean it too. You, by the look of you, belong to that class, but, remember, the time will come when men like Bolitho will be paid for what they have done. But, there!" And he laughed. "I suppose he had to speak to his brief, and, justice or no justice, he had to do what his employer told him to do. 'Ten pounds more for every extra month you get him,' would be Wilson's cry, and Bolitho would be anxious to get the ten pounds." The girl's eyes shone with a fierce anger, and then, without a word, walked away. "I say, Paul," said the shopkeeper, "that's not the way to treat my customers!" Paul looked ashamed of himself. "I know, I know, Mr. Sutcliffe, it was mean of me," he said, "and I know I ought to apologise to her. But if you had seen the look on her face, and had suffered what I have suffered, you'd have spoken too. Why, she might think I was an adder. But there, I dare say she knew who I was, and that I had just come out of prison." "As you know, I'm all on your side, Paul," said the shopkeeper, "but I cannot afford to have my customers driven away." "Nay, I know," said Paul; "and if she doesn't come back and pay for the things that are on the counter there, I'll take them myself and pay for them. But there, I must be going." And, having got the things he came to buy, he left the shop, little realising the influence the interview would have upon his future. He had barely gained the street when a man, whom he had known almost ever since he had come to Brunford, met him. "Ay, Paul," he said. "I have just been to your lodgings, and I want to see you particular." Paul's heart was still embittered with the scene through which he had passed, and he met the man rather coldly. "Is it anything particular?" he said. "Yes, I think so," replied the man. "Because if it isn't," said Paul, "I don't want to talk about it. I've had a hard day, and I'm pretty well worn out." "That's so," replied the other, "and we'll say nothing more about it if you don't feel like talking, but I thought as 'ow you might look upon it as good news."