"That's a go," he said. "Are you going to do it?"
"I suppose I shall try it. If I don't like it I can give it up at any time."
"Then I wish I was you. I don't like it, but I can't give it up, or I might have to live on nothing a week. I don't see what the boss wants an extra hand for. There aint enough trade to keep us busy."
"Mr. Kenyon tells me Mr. Bond has made money."
"Well, I am glad to hear it. The boss is always a-complainin' that trade is dull, and he must cut me down. If he does I'll sink into a hungry grave, that's all."
"How much do you get?" asked Oliver, amused by his companion's tone.
"Eight dollars a week; and what's that to support a gentleman on? I tell you what, I haven't had a new necktie for three months."
"That is hard."
"Hard! I should say it was hard. Look at them shoes!"
And John, bounding over the counter, displayed a foot which had successfully struggled out of its encasement on one side. "Isn't it disgraceful that a gentleman should have to wear such foot-cases as them?"