Mr. Faulks waved his hands and bowed stiffly, as much as to say that Sir Humphrey was master of his actions, but that he need not expect to see him.
"You all want stirring up here," said Sir Humphrey abruptly. "It is high time to give you a fillip."
"I am not aware—" Mr. Faulks began, in indignant protest, but his chief cut him short.
"Did you read what happened in the House last night?"
"I have only just glanced at the Times," replied Mr. Faulks, in a melancholy voice, thinking how rudely his regular perusal of the great journal had been interrupted that morning.
"It's not pleasant reading. There was a set attack upon this department, and they handled us very roughly, let me tell you. It made my ears tingle."
"We have been abused cruelly—unfairly abused for the last twelve months," said Mr. Faulks with a most injured air.
"You richly deserved it. Amongst you the troops in the Crimea have been dying from starvation, perishing from cold."
"I can assure you that is distinctly unjust. I can assure you great quantities of warm clothing were dispatched in due course."
"Ay, but when?"