was a ticklish matter to
ask for a rise. The manager had a sardonic way of dealing with such
applicants.

"Think you're worth more, do you? How much d'you think you're worth, eh?"

The assistant, with his heart in his mouth, would suggest that he thought
he ought to have another two shillings a week.

"Oh, very well, if you think you're worth it. You can 'ave it." Then he
paused and sometimes, with a steely eye, added: "And you can 'ave your
notice too."

It was no use then to withdraw your request, you had to go. The manager's
idea was that assistants who were dissatisfied did not work properly, and
if they were not worth a rise it was better to sack them at once. The
result was that they never asked for one unless they were prepared to
leave. Philip hesitated. He was a little suspicious of the men in his room
who told him that the buyer could not do without him. They were decent
fellows, but their sense of humour was primitive, and it would have seemed
funny to them if they had persuaded Philip to ask for more wages and he
were sacked. He could not forget the mortification he had suffered in
looking for work, he did not wish to expose himself to that again, and he
knew there was small chance of his getting elsewhere a post as designer:
there were hundreds of people about who could draw as well as he. But he
wanted money very badly; his clothes were worn out, and the heavy carpets
rotted his socks and boots; he had almost persuaded himself to take the
venturesome step when one morning, passing up from breakfast in the
basement through the passage that led to the manager's office, he saw a
queue of men waiting in answer to an advertisement. There were about a
hundred of them, and whichever was engaged would be offered his keep and
the same six shillings a week that Philip had. He saw some of them cast
envious glances at him because he had employment. It made him shudder. He
dared not risk it.

CVIII

The winter passed. Now and then Philip went to the hospital, slinking in
when it was late and there was little chance of meeting anyone he knew, to
see whether there were letters for him. At Easter he received one from his
uncle. He was surprised to hear from him, for the Vicar of Blackstable had
never written him more than half a dozen letters in his whole life, and
they were on business matters.

Dear Philip,

If you are thinking of taking a holiday soon and care to come down here I
shall be pleased to s