“Resting.”
“At liberty—eh?”
“No, resting; and there’s a big difference between the two. Resting means you are not acting because you don’t want to act. At liberty means you want to act, and would at any price, but can’t. Got it?”
“I see. Well, send him along, and I’ll look him over.”
“You don’t understand—you don’t know what you’re saying, old man. Why, he wouldn’t walk to the end of the street to look for jobs, for the simple reason that half the town is coming his way to offer ’em.”
“Like that, eh? Well, I suppose I must take your word, Bulmore, and risk it. For your sake I hope he doesn’t let us down, that’s all. What’s he like, now—is he funny?”
Bulmore stretched his imagination to the fullest.
“You should just hear them shriek at him.”
“And about terms? Would he take a bit less?”
“That’s the one difficulty, old man. I mentioned what you’d said, but he held out that thirty-five guineas was the lowest he’d accept.”