'He brought in this cheque for a hundred and ten thousand. I mentioned the Russian loan--it's undersubscribed by a hundred thousand.'
Samuel raised his eyebrows. 'That was precocious of you.'
'I only said he might talk to one of the partners about it if he wanted a higher rate of interest.'
'All right. It's not a bad idea.'
Hugh returned to the banking hall, pulled out Sir John's ledger and entered the deposit, then took the cheque to the clearing clerk. Then he went up to the fourth floor to Mulberry's office. He handed over the tally of Russian bonds, mentioned the possibility that Sir John Cammel might buy the balance, and sat down at his own table.
A walker came in with tea and bread and butter on a tray. This light refreshment was served to all clerks who stayed at the office after four-thirty. When work was light most people left at four. Bank staff were the elite among clerks, much envied by merchants' and shippers' clerks who often worked until late and sometimes right through the night.
A little later Samuel came in and handed some papers to Mulberry. 'Sir John bought the bonds,' he said to Hugh. 'Good work--that was an opportunity well taken.'
'Thank you.'
Samuel spotted the labeled trays on Mulberry's desk. 'What's this?' he said in a tone of amusement. ''For the attention of the Principal Clerk ... Having been dealt with by the Principal Clerk.''
Mulberry answered him. 'The purpose is to keep incoming and outgoing papers separate. It avoids confusion.'
'What a good scheme. I think I might do the same.'
'As a matter of fact, Mr. Samuel, it was young Mr. Hugh's idea.'
Samuel turned an amused look on Hugh. 'I say, you are keen, dear boy.'
Hugh was sometimes told he was too cocky, so now he pretended to be humble. 'I know I've got an awful lot to learn still.'
'Now, now, no false modesty. Tell me something. If you were to be released from Mr. Mulberry's service, what job would you like to do next?'
Hugh did not have to think about his answer. The most coveted job was that of correspondence clerk. Most clerks saw only a part of a transaction--the part they recorded--but the correspondence clerk, drafting letters to clients, saw the whole deal. It was the best position in which to learn, and the best from which to win promotion. And Uncle Samuel's correspondence clerk, Bill Rose, was due to retire.
Without hesitation Hugh said: 'I'd like to be your correspondence clerk.'
'Would you, now? After only a year in the bank?'
'By the time Mr. Rose goes it will be eighteen months.'
'So it will.' Samuel still seemed amused, but he had not said no. 'We'll see, we'll see,' he said, and he went out.
Mulberry said to Hugh: 'Did you advise Sir John Cammel to buy the surplus Russian bonds?'
'I just mentioned it,' said Hugh.
'Well, well,' said Mulberry. 'Well, well.' And he sat staring at Hugh speculatively for several minutes thereafter.
Section 2
IT WAS A SUNNY SUNDAY AFTERNOON, and all London was out for a stroll in their best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes. The wide avenue of Piccadilly was free from traffic, for only an invalid would drive on the Sabbath. Maisie Robinson and April Tilsley were strolling down Piccadilly, looking at the palaces of the rich and trying to pick up men.
They lived in Soho, sharing a single room in a slum house in Carnaby Street, near the St. James's Workhouse. They would get up around midday, dress carefully, and go out on the streets. By evening they had generally found a couple of men to pay for their dinner: if not, they went hungry. They had almost no money but they needed little. When the rent was due April would ask a boyfriend for a 'loan.' Maisie always wore the same clothes and washed her underwear every night. One of these days someone would buy her a new gown. Sooner or later, she hoped, one of the men who bought her dinner would either want to marry her or set her up as his mistress.
April was still excited about the South American she had met, Tonio Silva. 'Just think, he can afford to lose ten guineas on a bet!' she said. 'And I've always liked red hair.'
'I didn't like the other South American, the dark one,' Maisie said.
'Micky? He was gorgeous.'
'Yes, but there was something sly about him, I thought.'
April pointed to a huge mansion. 'That's Solly's father's house.'
It was set back from the road, with a semicircular drive in front. It looked like a Greek temple, with a row of pillars across the front that reached all the way up to the roof. Brass gleamed on the big front door and there were red velvet curtains at the windows.
April said: 'Just think, you could be living there one day.'
Maisie shook her head. 'Not me.'
'It's been done before,' April said. 'You just have to be more randy than upper-class girls, and that's not difficult. Once you're married, you can learn to imitate the accent and all that in no time. You speak nice already, except when you get cross. And Solly's a nice boy.'
'A nice fat boy,' Maisie said with a grimace.
'But so rich! People say his father keeps a symphony orchestra at his country house just in case he wants to hear some music after dinner!'
Maisie sighed. She did not want to think about Solly. 'Where did the rest of you go, after I shouted at that boy Hugh?'
'Ratting. Then me and Tonio went to Batt's Hotel.'
'Did you do it with him?'
'Of course! Why do you think we went to Batt's?'
'To play whist?'
They giggled.
April looked suspicious. 'You did it with Solly, though, didn't you?'
'I made him happy,' Maisie said.
'What does that mean?'
Maisie made a gesture with her hand, and they both giggled again.
April said: 'You only frigged him off? Why?'
Maisie shrugged.
'Well, perhaps you're right,' April said. 'Sometimes it's best not to let them have it all first time. If you lead them on a bit it can make them more keen.'
Maisie changed the subject. 'It brought back bad memories, meeting people called Pilaster,' she said.
April nodded. 'Bosses, I hate their fucking guts,' she said with sudden venom. April's
