ys wore a little black bonnet and a white apron; her sleeves were
tucked up to the elbow; she cut the sandwiches with large, dirty, greasy
hands; and there was grease on her bodice, grease on her apron, grease on
her skirt. She was called Mrs. Fletcher, but everyone addressed her as
'Ma'; she was really fond of the shop assistants, whom she called her
boys; she never minded giving credit towards the end of the month, and it
was known that now and then she had lent someone or other a few shillings
when he was in straits. She was a good woman. When they were leaving or
when they came back from the holidays, the boys kissed her fat red cheek;
and more than one, dismissed and unable to find another job, had got for
nothing food to keep body and soul together. The boys were sensible of her
large heart and repaid her with genuine affection. There was a story they
liked to tell of a man who had done well for himself at Bradford, and had
five shops of his own, and had come back after fifteen years and visited
Ma Fletcher and given her a gold watch.

Philip found himself with eighteen shillings left out of his month's pay.
It was the first money he had ever earned in his life. It gave him none of
the pride which might have been expected, but merely a feeling of dismay.
The smallness of the sum emphasised the hopelessness of his position. He
took fifteen shillings to Mrs. Athelny to pay back part of what he owed
her, but she would not take more than half a sovereign.

"D'you know, at that rate it'll take me eight months to settle up with
you."

"As long as Athelny's in work I can afford to wait, and who knows, p'raps
they'll give you a rise."

Athelny kept on saying that he would speak to the manager about Philip, it
was absurd that no use should be made of his talents; but he did nothing,
and Philip soon came to the conclusion that the press-agent was not a
person of so much importance in the manager's eyes as in his own.
Occasionally he saw Athelny in the shop. His flamboyance was extinguished;
and in neat, commonplace, shabby clothes he hurried, a subdued, unassuming
little man, through the departments as though anxious to escape notice.

"When I think of how I'm wasted there," he said at home, "I'm almost
tempted to give in my notice. There's no scope for a man like me. I'm
stunted, I'm starved."

Mrs. Athelny, quietly sewing, took no notice of his complaints. Her mouth
tightened a little.

"It's very hard to get jobs