Who could it be? He would have liked to go to see whom it was, but at the same time, if it were Nimrod, Crass wished to be discovered at work.He therefore waited a little longer and presently he heard the sound of voices upstairs but was unable to recognize them.He was just about to go out into the passage to listen, when whoever it was began coming downstairs.Crass at once resumed his work.The footsteps came along the passage leading to the kitchen: slow, heavy, ponderous footsteps, but yet the sound was not such as would be made by a man heavily shod.It was not Misery, evidently.

As the footsteps entered the kitchen, Crass looked round and beheld a very tall, obese figure, with a large, fleshy, coarse-featured, clean-shaven face, and a great double chin, the complexion being of the colour and appearance of the fat of uncooked bacon.A very large fleshy nose and weak-looking pale blue eyes, the slightly inflamed lids being almost destitute of eye-lashes.He had large fat feet cased in soft calfskin boots, with drab-coloured spats.His overcoat, heavily trimmed with sealskin, reached just below the knees, and although the trousers were very wide they were filled by the fat legs within, the shape of the calves being distinctly perceptible.Even as the feet seemed about to burst the uppers of the boots, so the legs appeared to threaten the trousers with disruption.This man was so large that his figure completely filled up the doorway, and as he came in he stooped slightly to avoid damaging the glittering silk hat on his head.One gloved hand was thrust into the pocket of the overcoat and in the other he carried a small Gladstone bag.

When Crass beheld this being, he touched his cap respectfully.

`Good morning, sir!'

`Good morning.They told me upstairs that I should find the foreman here.Are you the foreman?'

`Yes, sir.'

`I see you're getting on with the work here.'

`Ho yes sir, we're beginning to make a bit hov a show now, sir,'

replied Crass, speaking as if he had a hot potato in his mouth.

`Mr Rushton isn't here yet, I suppose?'

`No, sir: 'e don't horfun come hon the job hin the mornin, sir; 'e generally comes hafternoons, sir, but Mr 'Unter's halmost sure to be 'ere presently, sir.'

`It's Mr Rushton I want to see: I arranged to meet him here at ten o'clock; but' - looking at his watch - `I'm rather before my time.'

`He'll be here presently, I suppose,' added Mr Sweater.`I'll just take a look round till he comes.'

`Yes, sir,' responded Crass, walking behind him obsequiously as he went out of the room.

Hoping that the gentleman might give him a shilling, Crass followed him into the front hall and began explaining what progress had so far been made with the work, but as Mr Sweater answered only by monosyllables and grunts, Crass presently concluded that his conversation was not appreciated and returned to the kitchen.

Meantime, upstairs, Philpot had gone into Newman's room and was discussing with him the possibility of extracting from Mr Sweater the price of a little light refreshment.

`I think,' he remarked, `that we oughter see-ise this 'ere tuneropperty to touch 'im for an allowance.'

`We won't git nothin' out of 'IM, mate,' returned Newman.`'E's a red-'ot teetotaller.'

`That don't matter.'Ow's 'e to know that we buys beer with it? We might 'ave tea, or ginger ale, or lime-juice and glycerine for all 'e knows!'

Mr Sweater now bgan ponderously re-ascending the stairs and presently came into the room where Philpot was.The latter greeted him with respectful cordiality:

`Good morning, sir.'

`Good morning.You've begun painting up here, then.'

`Yes, sir, we've made a start on it,' replied Philpot, affably.

`Is this door wet?' asked Sweater, glancing apprehensively at the sleeve of his coat.