“Yes, and I hear you’re both fools. Is that the case?”
“Reginald isn’t, whatever I am,” said Horace, boldly.
“Isn’t he? I’m told he’s the bigger fool of the two. Never mind that, though—”
“I assure you,” began Horace, but the manager stopped him.
“Yes, yes. I know all about that. Now, listen to me. I dare say you’re both well-meaning boys, and Mr Richmond is interested in you. So I’ve promised to make room for you here, though it’s not convenient, and the wages you are to get are out of all proportion to your value—so far.”
Horace was glad at least that the manager dropped in those last two words.
“If your brother is clever and picks up his work soon and doesn’t give himself airs he’ll get on faster than you. I can’t put you at case, but they want a lad in the sub-editor’s room. Do you know where that is?”
“Yes, sir,” said Horace, “I took some proofs there yesterday. But, sir—”
“Well, what?” said the manager, sharply.
“Is there no possibility of Reginald and me being together?” faltered the boy.