There was also a "home" influence at work. When Christian passed out of
the narrow doorway, and turned his face westward, his day's work was by
no means over, as will be shown hereafter.

As Mr. Bodery rolled his pencil up and down his blotting-pad, he was
slowly realising the fact that something must be done. Presently he
looked up, and his pleasant eyes rested on the bent head of his
sub-editor.

"Morgan," he said, "I have been thinking--Seems to me Vellacott wants a
rest! He's played out!"

Mr. Morgan wiped his pen vigorously upon his coat, just beneath the
shoulder, and sat back in his chair.

"Yes," he replied; "he has not been up to the mark for some time. But
you will find difficulty in making him take a holiday. He is a devil for
working--ha, ha!"

This "ha, ha!" did not mean very much. There was no mirth in it. It was
a species of punctuation, and implied that Mr. Morgan had finished his
remark.

"I will ring for him now and see what he says about it."

Mr. Bodery extended his chubby white hand and touched a small gong.
Almost instantaneously the silent door opened and a voice from without
said, "Yess'r." A small boy with a mobile, wicked mouth stood at
attention in the doorway.