ances in dubious
quarters of "psychologists," "clair-voyants," "scientific palmists,"
and other rascals who sold a foreknowledge of the future for
eighteenpence or even a shilling. Viewed under certain aspects, it
seemed indeed that the Five Towns, in the week-end desertion of its
sordid factories, was reaching out after the higher life, the subtler
life, the more elegant life of greater communities; but the little
crowds and the little shops of Bursley market-place were nevertheless
a proof that a tolerable number of people were still mainly interested
in the primitive elemental enterprise of keeping stomachs filled and
skins warm, and had no thought beyond it. In Bursley market-place the
week's labour was being translated into food and drink and clothing by
experts who could distinguish infallibly between elevenpence-halfpenny
and a shilling. Rachel was such an expert. She forced her thoughts
down to the familiar, sane, safe subject of shopping, though to-night
her errands were of the simplest description, requiring no brains. But
she could not hold her thoughts. A voice was continually whispering to
her--not Louis Fores' voice, but a voice within herself, that she had
never clearly heard before. Alternatively she scorned it and trembled
at it.

She stopped in front of the huge window of Wason's Provision Emporium.

"Is this the first house of call?" asked Louis airily, swinging the
reticule and his stick together.

"Well--" she hesitated. "Mrs. Tams told me they were selling Singapore
pineapple at sevenpence-halfpenny. Mas. Maldon fancies pineapple. I've
known her fancy a bit of pineapple when she wouldn't touch anything
else.... Yes, there it is!"

In fact, the whole of the upper half of Wason's window was yellow
with tins of preserved pineapple. And great tickets said: "Delicious
chunks, 7 1/2d. per large tin. Chunks, 6 1/2d. per large tin."

Customers in ones and twos kept entering and leaving the shop. Rachel
moved on towards the door, which was at the corner of the Cock yard,
and looked within. The long double counters were being assailed by
a surging multitude who fought for the attention of prestidigitatory
salesmen.

"Hm!" murmured Rachel. "That may be all very well for Mrs. Tams...."

A moment later she said--

"It's always like that with Wason's shops for the first week or two!"

And her faintly sarcastic tone of a shrewd housewife immediately set
Wason in his place--Wason with his two hundred an