in the breeze, and boots that looked like a collection of fragments, he
set to work.

Certainly Nicholas Crips did not show any disposition to work himself to
death. After an hour his employer told him he wasn't likely to earn
enough to keep a rag-gatherer in toilet soap, but Nickie explained again
that he was merely exercising his liver, and had no intention of making
an independence as a breaker of road metal.

Nickie's heap was right opposite the great, fanciful iron gates of the
cemented residence. He could see the well-kept garden and the showy house
from where he worked, and he frequently ceased his half hearted rapping
at the tough stone to watch children playing on the lawn. He was
particularly interested in a tall, `severe-looking, fair-haired woman,
who appeared on the balcony for a moment.

Mr. Crips had been at work for about three hours, during which time he
had perspired a good deal and gathered much dust, for Nickie was
habitually easy going, and his task, although pursued with no diligence,
had "taken it out of him" to some extent. He was certainly a deplorable
scarecrow. A fine, polished carriage, with rubber tyres, drawn by a
splendid pair of chestnuts, was driven down the side drove by a livened
menial. It drew up near the centre gates, and Nickie leaned on his hammer
and waited.

The tall, dignified lady, accompanied by a short, important man in
immaculate black, came along the path, and approached the open door of
the vehicle. Nickie advanced carelessly, and intercepted them. He bowed
grotesquely.