' The widest side of the
office was the back of one of the shop-windows, which was being dressed at
the time, and an assistant went to and fro during the interview. The
manager was reading a letter. He was a florid man, with sandy hair and a
large sandy moustache; from the middle of his watch-chain hung a bunch of
football medals. He sat in his shirt sleeves at a large desk with a
telephone by his side; before him were the day's advertisements, Athelny's
work, and cuttings from newspapers pasted on a card. He gave Philip a
glance but did not speak to him; he dictated a letter to the typist, a
girl who sat at a small table in one corner; then he asked Philip his
name, age, and what experience he had had. He spoke with a cockney twang
in a high, metallic voice which he seemed not able always to control;
Philip noticed that his upper teeth were large and protruding; they gave
you the impression that they were loose and would come out if you gave
them a sharp tug.
"I think Mr. Athelny has spoken to you about me," said Philip.
"Oh, you are the young feller who did that poster?"
"Yes, sir."
"No good to us, you know, not a bit of good."
He looked Philip up and down. He seemed to notice that Philip was in some
way different from the men who had preceded him.
"You'd 'ave to get a frock coat, you know. I suppose you 'aven't got one.
You seem a respectable young feller. I suppose you found art didn't pay."
Philip could not tell whether he meant to engage him or not. He threw
remarks at him in a hostile way.
"Where's your home?"
"My father and mother died when I was a child."
"I like to give young fellers a chance. Many's the one I've given their
chance to and they're managers of departments now. And they're grateful to
me, I'll say that for them. They know what I done for them. Start at the
bottom of the ladder, that's the only way to learn the business, and then
if you stick to it there's no knowing what it can lead to. If you suit,
one of these days you may find yourself in a position like what mine is.
Bear that in mind, young feller."
"I'm very anxious to do my best, sir," said Philip.
He knew that he must put in the sir whenever he could, but it sounded odd
to him, and he was afraid of overdoing it. The manager liked talking. It
gave him a happy consciousness of his own importance, and he did not give
Philip his decision till he had used a great many words.
"Well, I daresay you'll do," he said at l
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