for the purpose of letting in some fresh air, because the
atmosphere of the room was foul with the fumes of the lamp and the
smell of the burning paint, besides being heavy with moisture. The
ceiling had only just been water washed and the walls had just been
stripped. The old paper, saturated with water, was piled up in a heap
in the middle of the floor.

Presently, as he was working he began to feel conscious of some other
presence in the room; he looked round. The door was open about six
inches and in the opening appeared a long, pale face with a huge chin,
surmounted by a bowler hat and ornamented with a large red nose, a
drooping moustache and two small, glittering eyes set very close
together. For some seconds this apparition regarded Owen intently,
then it was silently withdrawn, and he was again alone. He had been so
surprised and startled that he had nearly dropped the lamp, and now
that the ghastly countenance was gone, Owen felt the blood surge into
his own cheeks. He trembled with suppressed fury and longed to be able
to go out there on the landing and hurl the lamp into Hunter's face.

Meanwhile, on the landing outside Owen's door, Hunter stood thinking.
Someone must be got rid of to make room for the cheap man tomorrow. He
had hoped to catch somebody doing something that would have served as
an excuse for instant dismissal, but there was now no hope of that
happening. What was to be done? He would like to get rid of Linden,
who was now really too old to be of much use, but as the old man had
worked for Rushton on and off for many years, Hunter felt that he could
scarcely sack him off hand without some reasonable pretext. Still, the
fellow was really not worth the money he was getting. Sevenpence an
hour was an absurdly large wage for an old man like him. It was
preposterous: he would have to go, excuse or no excuse.

Hunter crawled downstairs again.

Jack Linden was about sixty-seven years old, but like Philpot, and as
is usual with working men, he appeared older, because he had had to
work very hard all his life, frequently without proper food and
clothing. His life had been passed in the midst of a civilization
which he had never been permitted to enjoy the benefits of. But of
course he knew nothing about all this. He had never expected or wished
to be allowed to enjoy such things; he had always been of opinion that
they were never intended for the likes of him. He called himself a
Conse