536 ANGEL PAVEMENT

reference. He had exactly eightpence now and he
wanted a cigarette badly this morning. It was no use,
he would have to have a smoke. So he went down the
road for a packet of ten gaspers, and then decided to go
and look at some advertisements of jobs and perhaps
have a peep at the Labour Exchange. It was one of those
uncomfortable streaky days, a minute or two of sunshine,
then clouds and a bitter East wind. It was miserable
walking about in it with just twopence in your pocket,
no job, a terrifying Mr. Golspie (with possible police)
somewhere about, and no hope in any direction. When
he saw the Labour Exchange, he was sorry he had gone
that way, for the very look of it made him feel still more
wretched. He hated Labour Exchanges.

It was late when he had dinner, and when it was over
and Mrs. Pelumpton was washing and tidying up in that
despairing fury at which she always arrived on Saturday,
Mr. Pelumpton returned from the pub down the road,
immensely oracular, and insisted on talking to Turgis
for the next hour. This time Turgis was compelled to
stay there and listen, for already he was beginning to
feel that he was there on sufferance. Moreover, with
only twopence in his pocket, and an East wind blowing
outside, he was better off there than he would be any-
where else. Something must have told Mr. Pelumpton
this, for he never took his dim boiled eyes off Turgis,
and droned on and on, sometimes touching on the dusty
mysteries of "dealing," sometimes offering ridiculous
good advice. It was awful. Turgis sat there, steadily
hating the old bore. "That's right, Mr. Pelumpton/' he
would say, with dreary politeness, adding to himself:
"You silly old devil, you ought to give those whiskers
of yours a good wash and brush up/' But there was not