Slim Matthews nodded. 'What's the grub?' he asked Friar. He had a bitter, discontented voice.
'Stoo and two veg.' Friar dumped the dishes on the table. 'There y'are, mate.'
I got close to the stove and slipped into my clothes. The two of them began to feed silently. 'Who's the girl in the kitchen?' I asked.
Friar looked up, his mouth full of food. 'Kitty Trevorn,' he said. 'She's the daughter of old man Manack's second wife by her first marriage.'
'He means she's the old man's stepdaughter,' Slim explained.
'That's wot I bin tellin' 'im, ain't it?' Friar answered heatedly. 'Just because yer bin to a Public School. That's a larf nan, ain't it? Slim was at 'Arrer. An' wot's 'e do? Finishes up a ruddy stone mason. If that's all eddication can do for a man, reck'n I'm just as well orf without it.'
Slim Matthews said nothing. He just sat slumped in his chair concentrating on his food and looking down his long nose. He reminded me of some unhappy cur kicked around in the dust of an Arab village street. Then you're the quarry man?' I said to Friar to change the subject.
'That's right,' he replied. 'An' there ain't many blokes can swing a biddle like I can. But I'm aba't bra'ned off wiv working da'n there under the sea. It ain't nat'ral, that's wot I say. It ain't the way a man's supposed to work. Fair gives a bloke the creeps. An' wet as a latrine. The Capting says there's thirty feet of rock between us and the sea. But it don't feel like that, I tell yer. The water streams da'n the walls an' most of the time we works wiv the water swurling ra'nd our ankles. Still — " He sighed and scooped up another mouthful of stew in his spoon. 'Mustn't grumble, I s'pose. The pay's good an' nobody don't ask no questions. An' the grub's all right too. They got their own farm.'
That stew seemed about the best food I'd ever tasted. I helped myself to more and asked what the idea was in letting the sea into the Mermaid gallery. He looked at me narrowly out of his small, bright eyes. 'Well, if the Capting ain't told yer, mate, mebbe I'd better keep me ma'f shut. But you mark my words, it's a ruddy good idea he's got. But then 'e's clever as a monkey. Kitty slid you come from Italy. Was that where you met the Capting?'
'No,' I said. 'A friend of mine sent me to him.'