'Well, suppose we put it like this: I'll draw the design at home in the
evenings--in my own time. If it's accepted, I'll charge you for the
time I've spent upon it. If it's not suitable, I won't charge the time
at all.'

Rushton brightened up considerably. 'All right. You can do so,' he
said with an affectation of good nature, 'but you mustn't pile it on
too thick, in any case, you know, because, as I said before, 'e don't
want to spend too much money on it. In fact, if it's going to cost a
great deal 'e simply won't 'ave it done at all.'

Rushton knew Owen well enough to be sure that no consideration of time
or pains would prevent him from putting the very best that was in him
into this work. He knew that if the man did the room at all there was
no likelihood of his scamping it for the sake of getting it done
quickly; and for that matter Rushton did not wish him to hurry over it.
All that he wanted to do was to impress upon Owen from the very first
that he must not charge too much time. Any profit that it was possible
to make out of the work, Rushton meant to secure for himself. He was a
smart man, this Rushton, he possessed the ideal character: the kind of
character that is necessary for any man who wishes to succeed in
business--to get on in life. In other words, his disposition was very
similar to that of a pig--he was intensely selfish.

No one had any right to condemn him for this, because all who live
under the present system practise selfishness, more or less. We must
be selfish: the System demands it. We must be selfish or we shall be
hungry and ragged and finally die in the gutter. The more selfish we
are the better off we shall be. In the 'Battle of Life' only the
selfish and cunning are able to survive: all others are beaten down and
trampled under foot. No one can justly be blamed for acting
selfishly--it is a matter of self-preservation--we must either injure
or be injured. It is the system that deserves to be blamed. What those
who wish to perpetuate the system deserve is another question.

'When do you think you'll have the drawings ready?' inquired Rushton.
'Can you get them done tonight?'

'I'm afraid not,' replied Owen, feeling inclined to laugh at the
absurdity of the question. 'It will need a little thinking about.'

'When can you have them ready then? This is Monday. Wednesday
morning?'

Owen hesitated.

'We don't want to keep 'im waiting too long, you know, or 'e may gi