THEY ARRIVE 51

ning in their 'eads, and you can't expect anything else
of 'em, not in my opinion. Cheeky with it, they are,
too."

"Well, I'm sorry, Smeeth, I really am, but I don't
see anything else for it. One of them will have to go,
either Turgis or Miss Matfield. We can't spare you,
Smeeth—"

"Thank you, sir." And as he said it—quite simply
and not with any touch of irony-Mr. Smeeth looked
still greyer. Indeed, he shook a little.

"No question of it at all," Mr. Dersingham con-
tinued, heartily, "absolutely none, But we'll have to get
rid of one of these two and divide the work between us.
I'll do something. I'll begin to type my own letters. I'll
have a good shot at it anyhow. It's a question now
whether you'd rather keep Turgis and let him do some
of the letters or keep Miss Matfield and divide his work
between the two of you. Stanley might do a bit more,
too, if he's got any sense. In any case, we must have a
boy, so there's no question of getting rid of him. Now
what d'you think, Smeeth. Turgis or Miss Matfield?
Nothing much in it I know, but you ought to decide.
You'll have most of the extra work yourself, I expect,
when it gets down to brass tacks, though, mind you,
I'm going to do a lot more myself, if I've time, in the
office."

Mr. Smeeth did not feel quite so bad as he had felt a
minute ago, but he felt bad enough. He tried to give
all his attention to the immediate problem, which was
serious enough for him, for he knew very well that it
was he who would have to do mast of the extra work,
but, try as he would, his mind wandered darkly. He
could not pretend to himself now that such pitiful