“Cripps,” he said, after half an hour’s waiting—“Cripps, I want to speak to you.”
“You may want,” was the surly reply. “I’ve done with you, young gentleman.”
“Oh, Cripps, don’t talk like that! I do mean to pay you, every farthing, but—”
“Yes, you’re very good at meaning, you are,” said the other. “Anyhow, it don’t much matter to me now.”
“What do you mean, Cripps? Oh, do give me a little more time! A week—only a week longer.”
“Aren’t you done?” was the only reply; “aren’t you going home?”
“Will you, Cripps? Have pity on me! I’m so miserable!”
Cripps only whistled pleasantly to himself.
Loman, almost frantic, made one last effort.
“Give us just a week more,” he entreated.