While John was lost in his many thoughts, a sudden noise called his attention. His door opened slowly, and the sarcastic yet friendly face of Higgins appeared.
- Sorry to bother, master, I 'ope it's fine.
- Yes, Higgins, what do you want?
- The lads are wondering, sir, if the cotton load from number 3 can be changed now.
- Yes, sure, you know better – he answered dismissive.
Higgins, in his innocent cleverness, and a smirk, said:
- The missus must be feeling the loss of our folk there in London. Who'd say a fine lass would fit with our people so well…
- I wouldn't know, she probably forgot us by now – John answered, without realising to whom he was talking to.
Higgins noticed his feelings and thoughts, and left the room, allowing John to swirl in his thoughts.
Margaret was looking through the window now, imagining the streets of Milton. Suddenly, a high pitch voice called her attention, and the streets of London reappeared. It was her cousin Edith, running into the room.
- Margaret, what are you doing here? Henry is downstairs, he wants to see you right now!
- I'm sorry, Edith, I am not feeling well right now. Please, send him my regards.
Edith was distressed, since all her attempts to bring Henry and Margaret together were being ignored by her cousin.
- Well, maybe you are not still over that dirty air of Milton… No wonder you are ill! And that people, maybe someone infected you!
- No, surely not. I just miss it, that is all.
She left the room without looking back, not really worried about Margaret's health, allowing Margaret to swirl in her thoughts.