“Well, you see, ma’am, he’s a bit arbitrary.”
“Arbitrary? What do you mean, Banks?”
“Well, you see, ma’am, he turned Sim Slee off at a moment’s notice.”
“And quite right, too,” said Mrs Glaire hotly. “My son told me. The fellow is a spouting, mouthing creature.”
“He is that, ma’am, and as lazy as a slug, but it made matters worse, and just now there’s a deal of strikes about, and the men at other places listening to delegates from societies, and joining unions, and all that sort of stuff.”
“And have you joined one of those clubs, Joe Banks?” said Mrs Glaire, sharply.
“Me join ’em, ma’am? Not I,” said Banks, who seemed immensely tickled at the idea. “Not I. I’m foreman, and get my wage reg’lar, and I don’t want none of their flummery. You should hear Ann go on about ’em.”
“I beg your pardon, Banks,” said Mrs Glaire. “I might have known that you were too sensible a man to go to these meetings.”
“Well, as to being sensible, I don’t know about that, Missus Glaire. Them two women folk at home do about what they like wi’ me.”
“I don’t believe it, Joe,” said Mrs Glaire. “Daisy would not have grown up such a good, sensible girl if she had not had a firm, kind, sensible father.”