He suffered tortures of shyness when, at half-past eight, the factory girls for upstairs trooped past him.
Mr.Pappleworth arrived, chewing a chlorodyne gum, at about twenty to nine, when all the other men were at work.

He was a thin, sallow man with a red nose, quick, staccato, and smartly but stiffly dressed.

He was about thirty-six years old.

There was something rather "doggy", rather smart, rather 'cute and shrewd, and something warm, and something slightly contemptible about him.
"You my new lad ?" he said.
Paul stood up and said he was.
"Fetched the letters ?" Mr.Pappleworth gave a chew to his gum.
"Yes." "Copied 'em ?" "No." "Well, come on then, let's look slippy.

Changed your coat ?" "No." "You want to bring an old coat and leave it here." He pronounced the last words with the chlorodyne gum between his side teeth.