Owen leaned against the wall, white-faced, panting and exhausted.
Downstairs, Misery was still going to and fro in the house and walking up and down in it. Presently he stopped to look at Sawkins’ work. This man was painting the woodwork of the back staircase. Although the old paintwork here was very dirty and greasy, Misery had given orders that it was not to be cleaned before being painted.
“Just dust it down and slobber the colour on,” he had said. Consequently, when Crass made the paint, he had put into it an extra large quantity of dryers. To a certain extent this destroyed the “body” of the colour: it did not cover well; it would require two coats. When Hunter perceived this he was furious. He was sure it could be made to do with one coat with a little care; he believed Sawkins was doing it like this on purpose. Really, these men seemed to have no conscience.
Two coats! and he had estimated for only three.
“Crass!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Come here!”
“Yes, sir.”
Crass came hurrying along.
“What’s the meaning of this? Didn’t I tell you to make this do with one coat? Look at it!”