Evil days are said to produce good men to match them. It is equally true that evil men produce evil days, and Reynold Walkden Staithes was an evil man who greatly magnified the evils of his days. The best thing that could be said about him, and the best thing anyone ever said about him, was that he was a Yorkshireman. After that, they were speechless. Stuck for laudable words, that is. They had a lot to say about him that wasn't complimentary. Most people feared him because he was mean and spiteful and exacted terrible vengeance on those he knew to be and those he considered his enemies. He trusted no one except the men he had done business with for many years, and even then he suspected they would harm him if they could. Staithes was a robust man in his forties. He stood just under six feet tall, unlike the shorter, more muscular Yorkshire men, hardened and bristly by work in the fields and mills. Staithes' face held a mocking look that almost never gave way to a smile. Some who had known him for years could not remember him smiling. His coldness did not encourage men to be familiar, which was fine with him because he had no desire to be pleasant or to be mistakenly thought so. He had a gruff manner and voice, as if the effort of speaking was too much for him, except when he was angry, and then his words came out as freely as water pouring from a downspout. He was a man whose temper was best avoided because he exercised no control in chastising or condemning. His words of praise and appreciation were sparse. However, when he was in one of his hypercritical moods he was more than generous with his opinions. His paranoia and hostility denied him the camaraderie of good men, and his dark... middle of paper... fire of comfort was overwhelmed by the tormenting fear that someone might discover him and bring him to ruin. . But what he didn't know, he wasn't the only one who knew. On top of these murky tensions, he had a decidedly dark lust and harbored an overbearing but unrequited attraction to one of his workers. Carelessly, and on more than one occasion, he had let on about his attraction to her, and more than once he had hugged her against her will in dark corners, and on one occasion he had done much worse. She had resisted him and warned him that his attentions would meet with disgraceful punishment, so he left the impediment fallow for a season, but continued to hold his insatiable hunger for the beautiful girl, Sarah Gledhill, nee Cartwright, in his soul tormented. If it's my work you're saving, then you're condemning me to starve.