It is impossible to describe, without appearing to exaggerate, the emotions experienced by Owen as he heard this announcement. For one thing it meant that the work at this house would last longer than it would otherwise have done; and it also meant that he would be paid for the extra time he had spent on the drawings, besides having his wages increased—for he was always paid an extra penny an hour when engaged on special work, such as graining or sign-writing or work of the present kind. But these considerations did not occur to him at the moment at all, for to him it meant much more. Since his first conversation on the subject with Rushton he had though of little else than this work.
In a sense he had been DOING it ever since. He had thought and planned and altered the details of the work repeatedly. The colours for the different parts had been selected and rejected and re-selected over and over again. A keen desire to do the work had grown within him, but he had scarcely allowed himself to hope that it would be done at all. His face flushed slightly as he took the drawings from Hunter.
“You can make a start on it tomorrow morning,” continued that gentleman. “I’ll tell Crass to send someone else up ’ere to finish this room.”
“I shan’t be able to commence tomorrow, because the ceiling and walls will have to be painted first.”
“Yes: I know. You and Easton can do that. One coat tomorrow, another on Friday and the third on Saturday—that is, unless you can make it do with two coats. Even if it has to be the three, you will be able to go on with your decoratin’ on Monday.”
“I won’t be able to start on Monday, because I shall have to make some working drawings first.”
“Workin’ drorins!” ejaculated Misery with a puzzled expression. “Wot workin’ drorins? You’ve got them, ain’t yer?” pointing to the roll of papers.
“Yes: but as the same ornaments are repeated several times, I shall have to make a number of full-sized drawings, with perforated outlines, to transfer the design to the walls,” said Owen, and he proceeded to laboriously explain the processes.
Nimrod looked at him suspiciously. “Is all that really necessary?” he asked. “Couldn’t you just copy it on the wall, free-hand?”
“No; that wouldn’t do. It would take much longer that way.”