Arter you, my boss." One or two men working on the nearby shed had stopped their labor and were glancing covertly toward them.
"Oh, all right!" agreed Brice, his uninterested voice carrying well though it was not noticeably raised.

"It seems a stuffy sort of hole.

But I'll take a look at it if you like.

Where's that light you're going to strike?
It--" As he spoke he sauntered into the storeroom.

His lazy speech was cut short by the clangorous slamming of the iron door behind him.