He looked at
her seriously. His eyes did not challenge hers as they were accustomed
to challenge Hebe's. He said in a friendly, matter-of-fact tone:
"A meat-pie, please, and a large coffee."
And she repeated in a thin voice:
"Meat-pie. Large coffee."
A minute later she dropped the order on the table, as it might have
been refuse, and with it a bit of white paper. The sadness of the city,
and the inexplicable sadness of June mornings, overwhelmed George as he
munched at the meat-pie and drank the coffee, and reached over for the
sugar and reached over for the mustard. And he kept saying to himself:
"She doesn't see her father at all for nearly two years, and then she
goes off to him like that in the middle of the night--at a word."
III
The office was not at its normal. The empty cubicle of the factotum
looked strange enough. But there was more than that in the abnormality.
There were currents of excitement in the office. The door of the
principals' room was open, and George saw John Orgreave and Everard
Lucas within, leaning over one of the great flat desks. The hour was
early for Lucas, and self-satisfaction was on Lucas's face as he raised
it to look at the entering of George.
"I say," he remarked quietly through the doorway, "that town hall scheme
is on again.
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