mixed with a small trowel some cement on a small board and proceeded
to stop up the cracks and holes in the walls and ceiling. After a
while, feeling very tired, it occurred to him that he deserved a spell
and a smoke for five minutes. He closed the door and placed a pair of
steps against it. There were two windows in the room almost opposite
each other; these he opened wide in order that the smoke and smell of
his pipe might be carried away. Having taken these precautions
against surprise, he ascended to the top of the step ladder that he
had laid against the door and sat down at ease. Within easy reach was
the top of a cupboard where he had concealed a pint of beer in a
bottle. To this he now applied himself. Having taken a long pull at
the bottle, he tenderly replaced it on the top of the cupboard and
proceeded to `hinjoy' a quiet smoke, remarking to himself:

`This is where we get some of our own back.'

He held, however, his trowel in one hand, ready for immediate action
in case of interruption.

Philpot was about fifty-five years old. He wore no white jacket, only
an old patched apron; his trousers were old, very soiled with paint
and ragged at the bottoms of the legs where they fell over the
much-patched, broken and down-at-heel boots. The part of his
waistcoat not protected by his apron was covered with spots of dried
paint. He wore a coloured shirt and a `dickey' which was very soiled
and covered with splashes of paint, and one side of it was projecting
from the opening of the waistcoat. His head was covered with an old
cap, heavy and shining with paint. He was very thin and stooped
slightly. Although he was really only fifty-five, he looked much
older, for he was prematurely aged.