--"Your little
gyme? Eh?" commented Donkin, jovially. Then with sudden disgust: "Yer
all for yerself, s'long as ye're right..."
So charged with egoism James Wait pulled the blanket up to his chin and
lay still for a while. His heavy lips protruded in an everlasting black
pout. "Why are you so hot on making trouble?" he asked without much
interest.
"'Cos it's a bloomin' shayme. We are put upon... bad food, bad pay... I
want us to kick up a bloomin' row; a blamed 'owling row that would make
'em remember! Knocking people about... brain us indeed! Ain't we men?"
His altruistic indignation blazed. Then he said calmly:--"I've been
airing yer clothes."--"All right," said Jimmy, languidly, "bring them
in."--"Giv' us the key of your chest, I'll put 'em away for yer," said
Donkin with friendly eagerness.--"Bring 'em in, I will put them
away myself," answered James Wait with severity. Donkin looked
down, muttering.... "What d'you say? What d'you say?" inquired Wait
anxiously.--"Nothink. The night's dry, let 'em 'ang out till the
morning," said Donkin, in a strangely trembling voice, as though
restraining laughter or rage. Jimmy seemed satisfied.
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