"No, I've been trying to get someone to take some paint off a wall."
"Oh, work!" Stanley's tone indicated that even to expect someone to do a job of work these days was being optimistic to the point of folly.
"I've been trying to get someone to wipe a slogan off the walls of The Franchise, but everyone is extraordinarily busy all of a sudden."
Stanley stopped his wriggling. "A slogan," he said. "What kind of slogan?" And Bill, hearing the exchange, oozed himself through the narrow office door to listen.
Robert told them. "In best quality white paint, so the policeman on the beat assures me."
Bill whistled. Stanley said nothing; he was standing with his overalls shrugged down to his waist and concertinaed about his legs.
"Who've you tried?" Bill asked.
Robert told them. "None of them can do anything tonight, and tomorrow morning, it seems, all their men are going out early on important jobs."
"It's not to be believed," Bill said. "Don't tell me they're afraid of reprisals!"
"No, to do them justice I don't think it's that. I think, although they would never say so to me, that they think those women at The Franchise deserve it." There was silence for a moment.