On the lawn she found Tony. Compelling herself to speak without undue hostility, she learned that the vicar had carried Robert off to inspect the greenhouse. Mrs. Peters, on the plea of a message, followed. She could not trust herself with Robert or his accomplice. "Is it he who has led Mr. Bangs astray, or the other way about?" she wondered viciously. "They both seem to be most undesirable; but Mr. Bangs is older and ought to know better. Besides, he has a wife." Had she known of Tony's matrimonial vicissitudes she would have fainted.
The odd-job man had just finished his digging, and Tony strolled over to exchange a word: he never despaired of finding interest in the most unpromising material. Chats with para-orators, enthusiastic Salvationists, members of the Junior Turf Club, constellations of the stage, even housemaids taking in the milk,—all might be, and often were, instruments in the warfare against boredom. All were fish for his net. But it must be confessed that his catch had hitherto been of little value. He had bought a few centimes' worth, paying for it with numerous rouleaus, and he was beginning dimly to wonder if it was not rather an extravagant method of exchange.
"Done?" he asked laconically, and Henry Brown smiled with content.
"That's a good job jobbed," he replied. "Shifting earth is healthy, sir, but it takes doing."
"D'you like it?" said Tony; "I mean, d'you find it interesting and all that, or do you pant after the higher life? More wages and less work, and so forth, I mean?"
The odd-job man shrugged his shoulders.
"It's my job, sir," he said philosophically. "I can't say it's amazing interesting, but it's my job, and it's got to be done."
"Got to be done," repeated Tony, musing. "I suppose it has ... by some one. Thank goodness it's not to be done by me. Tell me, Brown, what do you really think of work? Does it bore you or what? Do you think it's a good thing, so to speak? You needn't mind speaking out—the vicar can't hear, and I'm a man of the world and all that. Tell me, does work bore you to tears?"
The other smiled.
"Work's kept many a man straight, sir," he said. "I should be sorry to be without."