On this particular morning Edwin was disturbed in his studies by a
greater than the paper boy, a greater even than his father. Mr Osmond
Orgreave came stamping his cold feet into the shop, the floor of which
was still a little damp from the watering that preceded its sweeping.
Mr Orgreave, though as far as Edwin knew he had never been in the shop
before, went straight to the coke-stove, bent his knees, and began to
warm his hands. In this position he opened an interview with Edwin, who
dropped the Literary Supplement. Miss Ingamells was momentarily absent.
"Father in?"
"No, sir."
Edwin did not say where his father was, because he had received general
instructions never to `volunteer information' on that point.
"Where is he?"
"He's out, sir."
"Oh! Well! Has he left any instructions about those specifications for
the Shawport Board School?"
"No, sir. I'm afraid he hasn't. But I can ask in the printing office."
Mr Orgreave approached the counter, smiling. His face was angular,
rather stout, and harsh, with a grey moustache and a short grey beard,
and yet his demeanour and his voice had a jocular, youthful quality.
And this was not the only contradiction about him. His clothes were
extremely elegant and nice in detail--the whiteness of his linen would
have struck the most casual observer--but he seemed to be perfectly
oblivious of his clothes, indeed, to show carelessness concerning them.
His finger-nails were marvellously tended. But he scribbled in pencil
on his cuff, and apparently was not offended by a grey mark on his hand
due to touching the top of the stove. The idea in Edwin's head was that
Mr Orgreave must put on a new suit of clothes once a week, and new
linen every day, and take a bath about once an hour. The man had no
ceremoniousness. Thus, though he had never previously spoken to Edwin,
he made no preliminary pretence of not being sure who Edwin was; he
chatted with him as though they were old friends and had parted only the
day before; he also chatted with him as though they were equals in age,
eminence, and wealth. A strange man!
"Now look here!" he said, as the conversation proceeded, "those
specifications are at the Sytch Chapel. If you could come along with me
now--I mean _now_--I could give them to you and point out one or two
things to you, and perhaps Big James could make a start on them this
morning. You see it's urgent."
So he was familiar with Big James.
"Certainly," said Edwin, excited.
And when he had curtly told the paper boy to do portions of the
newspaper job which he had always held the paper boy was absolutely
incapable of doing, he sent the boy to find Miss Ingamells, informed her
where he was going, and followed Mr Orgreave out of the shop.
------------------------------------------------------------------------