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1The bell rang furiously and, when Miss Parker went to the tube, a furious voice called out in a piercing North of
2Ireland accent: "Send Farrington here!" Miss Parker returned to her machine, saying to a man who was writing at a desk:
3"Mr Alleyne wants you upstairs." The man muttered "Blast him!" under his breath and pushed back his chair to stand up.
4When he stood up he was tall and of great bulk. He had a hanging face, dark wine-coloured, with fair eyebrows and
5moustache: his eyes bulged forward slightly and the whites of them were dirty. He lifted up the counter and, passing by
6the clients, went out of the office with a heavy step. He went heavily upstairs until he came to the second landing,
7where a door bore a brass plate with the inscription Mr Alleyne. Here he halted, puffing with labour and vexation, and
8knocked. The shrill voice cried: "Come in!" The man entered Mr Alleyne's room. Simultaneously Mr Alleyne, a little man
9wearing gold-rimmed glasses on a clean-shaven face, shot his head up over a pile of documents. The head itself was so
10pink and hairless it seemed like a large egg reposing on the papers. Mr Alleyne did not lose a moment: "Farrington? What
11is the meaning of this? Why have I always to complain of you? May I ask you why you haven't made a copy of that contract
12between Bodley and Kirwan? I told you it must be ready by four o'clock." "But Mr Shelley said, sir----" "Mr Shelley
13said, sir.... Kindly attend to what I say and not to what Mr Shelley says, sir. You have always some excuse or another
14for shirking work. Let me tell you that if the contract is not copied before this evening I'll lay the matter before Mr
15Crosbie.... Do you hear me now?" "Yes, sir." "Do you hear me now?... Ay and another little matter! I might as well be
16talking to the wall as talking to you. Understand once for all that you get a half an hour for your lunch and not an
17hour and a half. How many courses do you want, I'd like to know.... Do you mind me, now?" "Yes, sir." Mr Alleyne bent
18his head again upon his pile of papers. The man stared fixedly at the polished skull which directed the affairs of
19Crosbie & Alleyne, gauging its fragility. A spasm of rage gripped his throat for a few moments and then passed, leaving
20after it a sharp sensation of thirst. The man recognised the sensation and felt that he must have a good night's
21drinking. The middle of the month was passed and, if he could get the copy done in time, Mr Alleyne might give him an
22order on the cashier. He stood still, gazing fixedly at the head upon the pile of papers. Suddenly Mr Alleyne began to
23upset all the papers, searching for something. Then, as if he had been unaware of the man's presence till that moment,
24he shot up his head again, saying: "Eh? Are you going to stand there all day? Upon my word, Farrington, you take things
25easy!" "I was waiting to see...." "Very good, you needn't wait to see. Go downstairs and do your work." The man walked
26heavily towards the door and, as he went out of the room, he heard Mr Alleyne cry after him that if the contract was not
27copied by evening Mr Crosbie would hear of the matter. He returned to his desk in the lower office and counted the
28sheets which remained to be copied. He took up his pen and dipped it in the ink but he continued to stare stupidly at
29the last words he had written: In no case shall the said Bernard Bodley be.... The evening was falling and in a few
30minutes they would be lighting the gas: then he could write. He felt that he must slake the thirst in his throat. He
31stood up from his desk and, lifting the counter as before, passed out of the office. As he was passing out the chief
32clerk looked at him inquiringly. "It's all right, Mr Shelley," said the man, pointing with his finger to indicate the
33objective of his journey. The chief clerk glanced at the hat-rack but, seeing the row complete, offered no remark. As
34soon as he was on the landing the man pulled a shepherd's plaid cap out of his pocket, put it on his head and ran
35quickly down the rickety stairs. From the street door he walked on furtively on the inner side of the path towards the
36corner and all at once dived into a doorway. He was now safe in the dark snug of O'Neill's shop, and filling up the
37little window that looked into the bar with his inflamed face, the colour of dark wine or dark meat, he called out:
38"Here, Pat, give us a g.p., like a good fellow." The curate brought him a glass of plain porter. The man drank it at a
39gulp and asked for a caraway seed. He put his penny on the counter and, leaving the curate to grope for it in the gloom,
40retreated out of the snug as furtively as he had entered it. Darkness, accompanied by a thick fog, was gaining upon the
41dusk of February and the lamps in Eustace Street had been lit. The man went up by the houses until he reached the door
42of the office, wondering whether he could finish his copy in time. On the stairs a moist pungent odour of perfumes
43saluted his nose: evidently Miss Delacour had come while he was out in O'Neill's. He crammed his cap back again into his
44pocket and re-entered the office, assuming an air of absent-mindedness. "Mr Alleyne has been calling for you," said the
45chief clerk severely. "Where were you?" The man glanced at the two clients who were standing at the counter as if to
46intimate that their presence prevented him from answering. As the clients were both male the chief clerk allowed himself
47a laugh. "I know that game," he said. "Five times in one day is a little bit.... Well, you better look sharp and get a
48copy of our correspondence in the Delacour case for Mr Alleyne." This address in the presence of the public, his run
49upstairs and the porter he had gulped down so hastily confused the man and, as he sat down at his desk to get what was
50required, he realised how hopeless was the task of finishing his copy of the contract before half past five. The dark
51damp night was coming and he longed to spend it in the bars, drinking with his friends amid the glare of gas and the
52clatter of glasses. He got out the Delacour correspondence and passed out of the office. He hoped Mr Alleyne would not
53discover that the last two letters were missing. The moist pungent perfume lay all the way up to Mr Alleyne's room. Miss
54Delacour was a middle-aged woman of Jewish appearance. Mr Alleyne was said to be sweet on her or on her money. She came
55to the office often and stayed a long time when she came. She was sitting beside his desk now in an aroma of perfumes,
56smoothing the handle of her umbrella and nodding the great black feather in her hat. Mr Alleyne had swivelled his chair
57round to face her and thrown his right foot jauntily upon his left knee. The man put the correspondence on the desk and
58bowed respectfully but neither Mr Alleyne nor Miss Delacour took any notice of his bow. Mr Alleyne tapped a finger on
59the correspondence and then flicked it towards him as if to say: "That's all right: you can go." The man returned to the
60lower office and sat down again at his desk. He stared intently at the incomplete phrase: In no case shall the said
61Bernard Bodley be ... and thought how strange it was that the last three words began with the same letter. The chief
62clerk began to hurry Miss Parker, saying she would never have the letters typed in time for post. The man listened to
63the clicking of the machine for a few minutes and then set to work to finish his copy. But his head was not clear and
64his mind wandered away to the glare and rattle of the public-house. It was a night for hot punches. He struggled on with
65his copy, but when the clock struck five he had still fourteen pages to write. Blast it! He couldn't finish it in time.
66He longed to execrate aloud, to bring his fist down on something violently. He was so enraged that he wrote Bernard
67Bernard instead of Bernard Bodley and had to begin again on a clean sheet.
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