Page 160 - sons-and-lovers

floor and rather gloomy on the second floor. The factory
was the top floor, the warehouse the second, the storehouse
the ground floor. It was an insanitary, ancient place.
Paul was led round to a very dark corner.
‘This is the ‘Spiral’ corner,’ said the clerk. ‘You’re Spiral,
with Pappleworth. He’s your boss, but he’s not come yet. He
doesn’t get here till half-past eight. So you can fetch the let-
ters, if you like, from Mr. Melling down there.’
The young man pointed to the old clerk in the office.
‘All right,’ said Paul.
‘Here’s a peg to hang your cap on. Here are your entry
ledgers. Mr. Pappleworth won’t be long.’
And the thin young man stalked away with long, busy
strides over the hollow wooden floor.
After a minute or two Paul went down and stood in the
door of the glass office. The old clerk in the smoking-cap
looked down over the rim of his spectacles.
‘Good-morning,’ he said, kindly and impressively. ‘You
want the letters for the Spiral department, Thomas?’
Paul resented being called ‘Thomas”. But he took the let-
ters and returned to his dark place, where the counter made
an angle, where the great parcel-rack came to an end, and
where there were three doors in the corner. He sat on a high
stool and read the letters—those whose handwriting was
not too difficult. They ran as follows:
‘Will you please send me at once a pair of lady’s silk spiral
thigh-hose, without feet, such as I had from you last year;
length, thigh to knee, etc.’ Or, ‘Major Chamberlain wishes
to repeat his previous order for a silk non-elastic suspen-

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