"Surely, and put it into every house, hall or church I build."
"Johnson, where are you?" came a call from below.
"'Tis Mr. Noakes himself, come to bother me again!" said Johnson in an undertone. Aloud he cried: "Coming, Mr. Noakes, coming! ... Belike you'll bide here a bit," he added with a smile.
"I'm not keen on meeting your worthy mayor," replied Eves. "I'll come down when he's gone."
Through the matchboard Eves clearly heard the conversation between the two men.
"Look 'ee here, Johnson," began Noakes, irritably, "this won't do. The place is as cold as an ice-house, and my orders was to heat en well. Folks won't be no good listening to speeches if they're all of a shiver."
"Why, bless 'ee, Mr. Noakes, 'tis only ten o'clock. There's plenty of time to get the room comfortable warm by seven. The furnace is going, and you don't want the place like a greenhouse, do 'ee? Folks 'ud all drop asleep."
"There's a medium, Johnson. I count on you to regulate the furnace so's we're cosy-like. 'Tis a raw morning, and 'twill be worse to-night. Keep the furnace going steady, and come four o'clock shet all the winders to keep out the night air."
"But what about ventilation? If so be there's a good audience you'll have women fainting, and I don't know what all."
"There'll be plenty of ventilation through the matchboard," said Noakes, looking upward. "Besides, we've always the winders to cool the air if need be, but if you ain't got a good fire—why there you are! See that my orders are carried out, Johnson."