"By your own watch, it is a quarter past," said Mr. Boxall.
"I have been here five minutes."
"I will not do you the discredit of granting you have spent that time in taking off your hat and gloves. Your watch is five minutes slower than mine," continued Mr. Boxall, pulling out a saucepan of silver, "and mine is five minutes slower than the Exchange. You are nearly half an hour late. You will never get on if you are not punctual. It's an old-fashioned virtue, I know. But first at the office is first at the winning-post, I can tell you. You'll never make money if you're late."
"I have no particular wish—I don't want to make money," said Thomas.
"But I do," rejoined Mr. Boxall, good-naturedly; "and you are my servant, and must do your part."
Thereat Thomas bridled visibly.
"Ah! I see," resumed the merchant; "you don't like the word. I will change it. There's no masters or servants nowadays; they are all governors and employees. What they gain by the alteration, I am sure I don't know."
I spell the italicized word thus, because Mr. Boxall pronounced employés exactly as if it were an English word ending in ees.
Mr. Worboise's lip curled. He could afford to be contemptuous. He had been to Boulogne, and believed he could make a Frenchman understand him. He certainly did know two of the conjugations out of—I really don't know how many. His master did not see what the curl indicated, but possibly his look made Thomas feel that he had been rude. He sought to cover it by saying—
"Mr. Wither was as late as I was, sir. I think it's very hard I should be always pulled up, and nobody else."