“Even if Misery didn’t come, I suppose Crass would ’ave something to say if we did put ’em on,” continued Philpot.
“Well, yer couldn’t blame ’im if ’e did say something, could yer?” said Slyme, offensively. “Crass would get into a row ’imself if ’Unter came and saw us workin’ in overcoats. It would look ridiclus.”
Slyme suffered less from the cold than any of them, not only because he had secured the most sheltered window, but also because he was better clothed than most of the rest.
“What’s Crass supposed to be doin’ inside?” asked Easton as he tramped up and down, with his shoulders hunched up and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his trousers.
“Blowed if I know,” replied Philpot. “Messin’ about touchin’ up or makin’ colour. He never does ’is share of a job like this; ’e knows ’ow to work things all right for ’isself.”
“What if ’e does? We’d be the same if we was in ’is place, and so would anybody else,” said Slyme, and added sarcastically: “Or p’haps you’d give all the soft jobs to other people and do all the rough yerself!”
Slyme knew that, although they were speaking of Crass, they were also alluding to himself, and as he replied to Philpot he looked slyly at Owen, who had so far taken no part in the conversation.
“It’s not a question of what we would do,” chimed in Harlow. “It’s a question of what’s fair. If it’s not fair for Crass to pick all the soft jobs for ’imself and leave all the rough for others, the fact that we might do the same if we ’ad the chance don’t make it right.”
“No one can be blamed for doing the best he can for himself under existing circumstances,” said Owen in reply to Slyme’s questioning look. “That is the principle of the present system—every man for himself and the devil take the rest. For my own part I don’t pretend to practise unselfishness. I don’t pretend to guide my actions by the rules laid down in the Sermon on the Mount. But it’s certainly surprising to hear you who profess to be a follower of Christ—advocating selfishness. Or, rather, it would be surprising if it were not that the name of ‘Christian’ has ceased to signify one who follows Christ, and has come to mean only liar and hypocrite.”
Slyme made no answer. Possibly the fact that he was a true believer enabled him to bear this insult with meekness and humility.