"How do I know that?"
Mr. Wriford cried frantically: "It's only temporarily! If I drink, if I'm not suitable, you can stop it in a moment."
"No notice?" said Mr. Pennyquick.
"No—no notice. Temporarily—it's only temporarily. That'll be understood."
"Well, if no notice is understood I'll take the risk—for a week, while I'm getting a man. I'll give you fifteen shillings. No, I won't. I'll give you twelve. I'll give you twelve shillings, and if I have to sack you before the week's out—well, you just go. That's understood?"
"Thank you," Mr. Wriford said. The field was spinning now. He could think of nothing else to say. "Thank you."
"Be here at nine to-morrow," said Mr. Pennyquick. "Just before nine," and he turned away and shouted to his boys: "Stop now! Come in now!"
"But—" said Mr. Wriford. "But—but—" He was trying for words to frame his difficulty. "But—do I live in?"
"Live in!" cried Mr. Pennyquick. "I'm taking risks enough having you at all! Live in! Stop now. Come in now!" and he walked away towards the house.