music-hall songs. When Philip had finished
he went out to walk about the streets and look at the crowd; occasionally
he stopped outside the doors of restaurants and watched the people going
in; he felt hungry, so he bought a bath bun and ate it while he strolled
along. He had been given a latch-key by the prefect, the man who turned
out the gas at a quarter past eleven, but afraid of being locked out he
returned in good time; he had learned already the system of fines: you had
to pay a shilling if you came in after eleven, and half a crown after a
quarter past, and you were reported besides: if it happened three times
you were dismissed.

All but the soldier were in when Philip arrived and two were already in
bed. Philip was greeted with cries.

"Oh, Clarence! Naughty boy!"

He discovered that Bell had dressed up the bolster in his evening clothes.
The boy was delighted with his joke.

"You must wear them at the social evening, Clarence."

"He'll catch the belle of Lynn's, if he's not careful."

Philip had already heard of the social evenings, for the money stopped
from the wages to pay for them was one of the grievances of the staff. It
was only two shillings a month, and it covered medical attendance and the
use of a library of worn novels; but as four shillings a month besides was
stopped for washing, Philip discovered that a quarter of his six shillings
a week would never be paid to him.

Most of the men were eating thick slices of fat bacon between a roll of
bread cut in two. These sandwiches, the assistants' usual supper, were
supplied by a small shop a few doors off at twopence each. The soldier
rolled in; silently, rapidly, took off his clothes and threw himself into
bed. At ten minutes past eleven the gas gave a big jump and five minutes
later went out. The soldier went to sleep, but the others crowded round
the big window in their pyjamas and night-shirts and, throwing remains of
their sandwiches at the women who passed in the street below, shouted to
them facetious remarks. The house opposite, six storeys high, was a
workshop for Jewish tailors who left off work at eleven; the rooms were
brightly lit and there were no blinds to the windows. The sweater's
daughter--the family consisted of father, mother, two small boys, and a
girl of twenty--went round the house to put out the lights when work was
over, and sometimes she allowed herself to be made love to by one of the
tailors. The shop assistants in Ph