I consider this is really the heart of England,’ said Clifford to Connie, as he sat there in the dim February sunshine.‘Do you?’ she said, seating herself in her blue knitted dress, on a stump by the path.‘I do! this is the old England, the heart of it; and I intend to keep it intact.’‘Oh yes!’ said Connie. But, as she said it she heard the eleven-o’clock hooters at Stacks Gate colliery. Clifford was too used to the sound to notice.
-D.H. Lawrence
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