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The Slaughter basement, sir, but of course that's nearly halways the case sir, when the rooms is partly hunder ground, sir. But of course it don't matter so much about the basement, sir,' he continued, 'because it's honly the servants what 'as to use it, sir, and even down there it'll be hall right hin the summer, sir.'

One would scarcely have guessed from the contemptuous way in which Crass spoke of 'servants' that his own daughter was 'in service.'

'Oh, yes; there's no doubt about that,' replied Sweater as he moved towards the front door; 'there's no doubt it will be dry enough in the summer. Good morning.'

'Good morning to you, sir,' said Crass, following him. 'I 'opes as you're pleased with all the work, sir; everything satisfactory, sir.'

'Oh, yes, I think it looks very nice; very nice indeed; I'm very pleased with it,' said Sweater affably. 'Good morning.'

'Good morning, sir,' replied the foreman with a sickly smile, as Sweater departed.

Crass sat down dejectedly on the bottom step of the stairs, overwhelmed by the ruin of his expectations. There was just a chance yet, as he would have to come to the house on Monday and Tuesday to fix the venetian blinds. But it was a forlorn hope as Sweater rarely visited the job early in the week, and if he had meant to give anything he would have done so that day. Still, pulling himself together, Crass determined to hope for the best and returned to the kitchen. He had not mentioned his expectations of a tip to his mates, but they eyed him keenly as he entered, fully determined to get their share.

'What did 'e give yer?' demanded Sawkins going straight to the point.

'Give me?' replied Crass. 'Nothink!'

Slyme laughed in a sneering, incredulous way, but Sawkins was inclined to be abusive. He averred that he had been watching Crass and Sweater and had seen the latter put his thumb and finger into his waistcoat pocket as he walked into the dining-room followed by Crass. It took the latter a long time to convince them of the truth of his own account, but he succeeded at last, and they all three agreed that Old Sweater was a sanguinary rotter, and lamented over the decay of the good old fashioned customs. 239