Maitland's eye gleamed.
"Ah, that's better," he said.

"Yes, that's better." He turned to one of the workmen at the bench near by.
"What job is this, Gibbon ?" he asked.
"It's the Bank job, I think," said Gibbon.
"What?
The Merchants' Bank job?
Surely that can't be.

That job was due two weeks ago." Maitland turned impatiently toward an older man.
"Ellis," he said sharply, "do you know what job this is ?" Ellis came and turned over the different parts of the work.
"That's the Merchants' Bank job, sir," he said.
"Then what is holding this up ?" enquired Maitland wrathfully.
"It's the turned work, I think, sir.

I am not sure, but I think I heard Mr.Perrotte asking about that two or three days ago." Mr.Maitland's lips met in a thin straight line.
"You can go back to your saw, McNish," he said shortly.
"Ay, sir," said McNish, his tone indicating quiet satisfaction.

At Gibbon's bench he paused.