“Do ’em at ’ome! Why can’t you do ’em ’ere?”
“Well, there’s no table, for one thing.”
“Oh, but we can soon fit you out with a table. You can ’ave a pair of paperhanger’s tressels and boards for that matter.”
“I have a lot of sketches and things at home that I couldn’t very well bring here,” said Owen.
Misery argued about it for a long time, insisting that the drawings should be made either on the “job” or at the paint-shop down at the yard. How, he asked, was he to know at what hour Owen commenced or left off working, if the latter did them at home?
“I shan’t charge any more time than I really work,” replied Owen. “I can’t possibly do them here or at the paint-shop. I know I should only make a mess of them under such conditions.”
“Well, I s’pose you’ll ’ave to ’ave your own way,” said Misery, dolefully. “I’ll let Harlow help Easton paint the room out, so as you can get your stencils and things ready. But for Gord’s sake get ’em done as quick as you can. If you could manage to get done by Friday and come down and help Easton on Saturday, it would be so much the better. And when you do get a start on the decoratin’, I shouldn’t take too much care over it, you know, if I was you, because we ’ad to take the job for next to nothing or Mr Sweater would never ’ave ’ad it done at all!”
Nimrod now began to crawl about the house, snarling and grumbling at everyone.
“Now then, you chaps. Rouse yourselves!” he bellowed, “you seem to think this is a ’orspital. If some of you don’t make a better show than this, I’ll ’ave to ’ave a Alteration! There’s plenty of chaps walkin’ about doin’ nothin’ who’ll be only too glad of a job!”
He went into the scullery, where Crass was mixing some colour.