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Page 17
Psmith was the first to recover. Mr Rossiter was still too confused for
speech, but Psmith took the situation in hand.
'Apparently no,' he said, swiftly removing his hat from the ruler. 'In
reality, yes. Mr Rossiter and I were just scheming out a line of work
for me as you came up. If you had arrived a moment later, you would
have found me toiling.'
'H'm. I hope I should. We do not encourage idling in this bank.'
'Assuredly not,' said Psmith warmly. 'Most assuredly not. I would not
have it otherwise. I am a worker. A bee, not a drone. A
_Lusitania,_ not a limpet. Perhaps I have not yet that grip on my
duties which I shall soon acquire; but it is coming. It is coming. I
see daylight.'
'H'm. I have only your word for it.' He turned to Mr Rossiter, who had
now recovered himself, and was as nearly calm as it was in his nature
to be. 'Do you find Mr Smith's work satisfactory, Mr Rossiter?'
Psmith waited resignedly for an outburst of complaint respecting the
small matter that had been under discussion between the head of the
department and himself; but to his surprise it did not come.
'Oh--ah--quite, quite, Mr Bickersdyke. I think he will very soon pick
things up.'
Mr Bickersdyke turned away. He was a conscientious bank manager, and
one can only suppose that Mr Rossiter's tribute to the earnestness of
one of his _employes_ was gratifying to him. But for that, one would have
said that he was disappointed.
'Oh, Mr Bickersdyke,' said Psmith.
The manager stopped.
'Father sent his kind regards to you,' said Psmith benevolently.
Mr Bickersdyke walked off without comment.
'An uncommonly cheery, companionable feller,' murmured Psmith, as he
turned to his work.
The first day anywhere, if one spends it in a sedentary fashion, always
seemed unending; and Mike felt as if he had been sitting at his desk
for weeks when the hour for departure came. A bank's day ends
gradually, reluctantly, as it were. At about five there is a sort of
stir, not unlike the stir in a theatre when the curtain is on the point
of falling. Ledgers are closed with a bang. Men stand about and talk
for a moment or two before going to the basement for their hats and
coats. Then, at irregular intervals, forms pass down the central aisle
and out through the swing doors. There is an air of relaxation over the
place, though some departments are still working as hard as ever under
a blaze of electric light. Somebody begins to sing, and an instant
chorus of protests and maledictions rises from all sides. Gradually,
however, the electric lights go out. The procession down the centre
aisle becomes more regular; and eventually the place is left to
darkness and the night watchman.
The postage department was one of the last to be freed from duty. This
was due to the inconsiderateness of the other departments, which
omitted to disgorge their letters till the last moment. Mike as he grew
familiar with the work, and began to understand it, used to prowl round
the other departments during the afternoon and wrest letters from them,
usually receiving with them much abuse for being a nuisance and not
leaving honest workers alone. Today, however, he had to sit on till
nearly six, waiting for the final batch of correspondence.
Psmith, who had waited patiently with him, though his own work was
finished, accompanied him down to the post office and back again to the
bank to return the letter basket; and they left the office together.
'By the way,' said Psmith, 'what with the strenuous labours of the bank
and the disturbing interviews with the powers that be, I have omitted
to ask you where you are digging. Wherever it is, of course you must
clear out. It is imperative, in this crisis, that we should be
together. I have acquired a quite snug little flat in Clement's Inn.
There is a spare bedroom. It shall be yours.'
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