258 ANGEL PAVEMENT

boat on the Anglo-Baltic. And," here Mr. Smeeth
glanced out of the window at the raw damp morning,
"I don't envy him. It'll be a cold job crossing the North
Sea, this weather. I remember I once had «, sail on a boat
at Yarmouth one Easter, not very far out, y'know, but—
my wordMt was perishing. I was glad to get back. Well,
what's it going to be like right in the middle, this time of
year? I wouldn't be paid, wouldn't be paid, to do it."

"Ill bet he doesn't care," said Stanley boastfully. Mr.
Golspie was still one of Stanley's heroes—though nobody
could discover why, except that he looked rather like a
detective—and Stanley had no half measures in the
heroic. 'Til bet he likes it. I would. I wish he'd take
me with him. I wouldn't go. Oh no; oh no! Wouldn't
I just!"

"You get on with your work, Stanley," said Mr.
Smeeth mechanically. "We all know what you'd do and
what you wouldn't do. Well, he's sailing this afternoon,
all the way to the Baltic Sea, and, as I say, I don't envy
him." And Mr. Smeeth returned, well content, to his
cosy desk and his neat little rows of figures.

Half an hour afterwards, Mr. Golspie, wearing an
enormous ulster, looked in on them. "You won't see me
for a week or two," he announced cheerfully. "Keep it
going. Shoulders to the wheel! Full steam ahead, as
people say—though why they say it, God only knows,
because nobody in a ship ever said it—doesn't mean any-
thing. Make 'em all pay up, Smeeth. Keep your eye on
that cut rate with the Anglo-Baltic, Turgis. Just re-
member me in your prayers, you girls, if you do pray.
Do you pray, Miss Matfield? Never mind, tell me
another time. And, Stanley—"

"Yes, sir," said Stanley, springing to attention.