He doesn't get here till half-past eight.

So you can fetch the letters, if you like, from Mr.Melling down there." The young man pointed to the old clerk in the office.
"All right," said Paul.
"Here's a peg to hang your cap on.

Here are your entry ledgers.

Mr.
Pappleworth won't be long." And the thin young man stalked away with long, busy strides over the hollow wooden floor.
After a minute or two Paul went down and stood in the door of the glass office.

The old clerk in the smoking-cap looked down over the rim of his spectacles.
"Good-morning," he said, kindly and impressively.