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He could arrange the cord on the hook on one of the doors and then under pretence of play； it would be done。 The boy would offer no resistance； and in a few minutes it would all be over。
He threw down the book and pressed his hands over his ears： he fancied he could hear the boy's hands and feet beating against the panels of the door as he struggled in his death agony。
Then； as his arms fell nervelessly by his side again； he thought that he heard Frankie's voice calling。
‘Dad！ Dad！'
Owen hastily opened the door。
‘Are you calling； Frankie？'
‘Yes。 I've been calling you quite a long time。'
‘What do you want？'
‘I want you to come here。 I want to tell you something。'
‘Well； what is it dear？ I thought you were asleep a long time ago；' said Owen as he came into the room。
‘That's just what I want to speak to you about： the kitten's gone to sleep all right； but I can't go。 I've tried all different ways； counting and all； but it's no use； so I thought I'd ask you if you'd mind coming and staying with me； and letting me hold you hand for a little while and the p'raps I could go。'
The boy twined his arms round Owen's neck and hugged him very tightly。
‘Oh； Dad； I love you so much！' he said。 ‘I love you so much； I could squeeze you to death。'
‘I'm afraid you will； if you squeeze me so tightly as that。'
The boy laughed softly as he relaxed his hold。 ‘That WOULD be a funny way of showing you how much I love you； wouldn't it； Dad？ Squeezing you to death！'
‘Yes； I suppose it would；' replied Owen huskily； as he tucked the bedclothes round the child's shoulders。 ‘But don't talk any more； dear； just hold my hand and try to sleep。'
‘All right；' said Frankie。
Lying there very quietly； holding his father's hand and occasionally kissing it； the child presently fell asleep。 Then Owen got up very gently and； having taken the kitten out of the bed again and arranged the bedclothes； he softly kissed the boy's forehead and returned to the other room。
Looking about for a suitable place for the kitten to sleep in； he noticed Frankie's toy box； and having emptied the toys on to the floor in a corner of the room； he made a bed in the box with some rags and placed it on its side on the hearthrug； facing the fire； and with some difficulty persuaded the kitten to lie in it。 Then； having placed the chairs on which his clothes were drying at a safe distance from the fire； he went into the bedroom。 Nora was still awake。
‘Are you feeling any better； dear？' he said。
‘Yes； I'm ever so much better since I've been in bed； but I can't help worrying about your clothes。 I'm afraid they'll never be dry enough for you to put on the first thing in the morning。 Couldn't you stay at home till after breakfast； just for once？'
‘No； I mustn't do that。 If I did Hunter would probably tell me to stay away altogether。 I believe he would be glad of an excuse to get rid of another full…price man just now。'
‘But if it's raining like this in the morning； you'll be wet through before you get there。'
‘It's no good worrying about that dear： besides； I can wear this old coat that I have no now； over the other。'
‘And if you wrap your old shoes in some paper； and take them with you； you can take off your wet boots as soon as you get to the place。'
‘Yes； all right；' responded Owen。 ‘Besides；' he added； reassuringly； ‘even if I do get a little wet； we always have a fire there； you know。'
‘Well； I hope the weather will be a little better than this in the morning；' said Nora。 ‘Isn't it a dreadful night！ I keep feeling afraid that the house is going to be blown down。'
Long after Nora was asleep； Owen lay listening to the howling of the wind and the noise of the rain as it poured heavily on the roof 。。。
Chapter 7
The Exterminating Machines
‘Come on； Saturday！' shouted Philpot； just after seven o'clock one Monday morning as they were getting ready to commence work。
It was still dark outside； but the scullery was dimly illuminated by the flickering light of two candles which Crass had lighted and stuck on the shelf over the fireplace in order to enable him to see to serve out the different lots of paints and brushes to the men。
‘Yes； it do seem a 'ell of a long week； don't it？' remarked Harlow as he hung his overcoat on a nail and proceeded to put on his apron and blouse。 ‘I've 'ad bloody near enough of it already。'
‘Wish to Christ it was breakfast…time；' growled the more easily satisfied Easton。
Extraordinary as it may appear； none of them took any pride in their work： they did not ‘love' it。 They had no conception of that lofty ideal of ‘work for work's sake'； which is so popular with the people who do nothing。 On the contrary； when the workers arrived in the morning they wished it was breakfast…time。 When they resumed work after breakfast they wished it was dinner…time。 After dinner they wished it was one o'clock on Saturday。
So they went on； day after day； year after year； wishing their time was over and； without realizing it； really wishing that they were dead。
How extraordinary this must appear to those idealists who believe in ‘work for work's sake'； but who themselves do nothing but devour or use and enjoy or waste the things that are produced by the labour of those others who are not themselves permitted to enjoy a fair share of the good things they help to create？
Crass poured several lots of colour into several pots。
‘Harlow；' he said； ‘you and Sawkins； when he comes； can go up and do the top bedrooms out with this colour。 You'll find a couple of candles up there。 It's only goin' to 'ave one coat； so see that you make it cover all right； and just look after Sawkins a bit so as 'e doesn't make a bloody mess of it。 You do the doors and windows； and let 'im do the cupboards and skirtings。'
‘That's a bit of all right； I must say；' Harlow said； addressing the company generally。 ‘We've got to teach a br like 'im so as 'e can do us out of a job presently by working under price。'
‘Well； I can't 'elp it；' growled Crass。 ‘You know 'ow it is： ‘Unter sends 'im 'ere to do paintin'； and I've got to put 'im on it。 There ain't nothing else for 'im to do。'
Further discussion on this subject was prevented by Sawkins' arrival； nearly a quarter of an hour late。
‘Oh； you 'ave come； then；' sneered Crass。 ‘Thought p'raps you'd gorn for a 'oliday。'
Sawkins muttered something about oversleeping himself； and having hastily put on his apron； he went upstairs with Harlow。
‘Now； let's see；' Crass said； addressing Philpot。 ‘You and Newman 'ad better go and make a start on the second floor： this is the colour； and 'ere's a couple of candles。 You'd better not both go in one room or 'Unter will growl about it。 You take one of the front and let Newman take one of the back rooms。 Take a bit of stoppin' with you： they're goin' to 'ave two coats； but you'd better putty up the 'oles as well as you can； this time。'
‘Only two coats！' said Philpot。 ‘Them rooms will never look nothing with two coats … a light colour like this。'
‘It's only goin' to get two； anyway；' returned Crass； testily。 ‘'Unter said so； so you'll 'ave to do the best you can with 'em； and get 'em smeared over middlin' sudden； too。'
Crass did not think it necessary to mention that according to the copy of the specification of the work which he had in his pocket the rooms in question were supposed to have four coats。
Crass now turned to Owen。
‘There's that drorin'…room；' he said。 ‘I don't know what's goin' to be done with that yet。 I don't think they've decided about it。 Whatever's to be done to it will be an extra； because all that's said about it in the contract is to face it up with putty and give it one coat of white。 So you and Easton 'ad better get on with it。'
Slyme was busy softening some putty by rubbing and squeezing it between his hands。
‘I suppose I'd better finish the room I started on on Saturday？' he asked。
‘All right；' replied Crass。 ‘Have you got enough colour？'
‘Yes；' said Slyme。
As he passed through the kitchen on the way to his work； Slyme accosted Bert； the boy； who was engaged in lighting； with some pieces of wood； a fire to boil the water to make the tea for breakfast at eight o'clock。
‘There's a bloater I want's cooked；' he said。
‘All right；' replied Bert。 ‘Put it over there on the dresser along of Philpot's and mine。'
Slyme took the bloater from his food basket； but as he was about to put it in the place indicated； he observed that his was rather a larger one than either of the other two。 This was an important matter。 After they were cooked it would not be easy to say which was which： he might possibly be given one of the smaller ones instead of his own。 He took out his pocket knife and cut off the tail of the large bloater。
‘'Ere it is； then；' he said to Bert。 ‘I've cut the tail of mine so as you'll know which it is。'
It was now about twenty minutes past seven and all the other men having been started at work； Crass washed his hands under the tap。 Then he went into the kitchen and having rigged up a seat by taking two of the drawers out of the dresser and placing them on the floor about six feet apart and laying a plank across