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Horrocks stood for half a minute, then turned abruptly towards
the ironworks again. "See how fine these great mounds of mine,
these clinker-heaps, look in the night! That truck yonder, up
above there! Up it goes, and out-tilts the slag. See the
palpitating red stuff go sliding down the slope. As we get nearer,
the heap rises up and cuts the blast furnaces. See the quiver up
above the big one. Not that way! This way, between the heaps.
That goes to the puddling furnaces, but I want to show you the
canal first." He came and took Raut by the elbow, and so they went
along side by side. Raut answered Horrocks vaguely. What, he
asked himself, had really happened on the line? Was he deluding
himself with his own fancies, or had Horrocks actually held him
back in the way of the train? Had he just been within an ace of
being murdered?
Suppose this slouching, scowling monster did know anything?
For a minute or two then Raut was really afraid for his life,
but the mood passed as he reasoned with himself. After all,
Horrocks might have heard nothing. At any rate, he had pulled him
out of the way in time. His odd manner might be due to the mere
vague jealousy he had shown once before. He was talking now of the
ash-heaps and the canal. "Eigh?" said Horrocks.
"
What?" said Raut. "Rather! The haze in the moonlight. Fine!"
Our canal," said Horrocks, stopping suddenly. "Our canal by
"
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