"There doesn't seem much wrong with him, does there?" said Philip.
He took up his hat, and by this time 'Erb's wife had dished up the beefsteak and put on the table a plate of green peas.
"You're going to have a nice dinner," smiled Philip.
"He's only in of a Sunday and I like to 'ave something special for him, so as he shall miss his 'ome when he's out at work."
"I suppose you'd be above sittin' down and 'avin' a bit of dinner with us?" said 'Erb.
"Oh, 'Erb," said his wife, in a shocked tone.
"Not if you ask me," answered Philip, with his attractive smile.
"Well, that's what I call friendly, I knew 'e wouldn't take offence, Polly. Just get another plate, my girl."
Polly was flustered, and she thought 'Erb a regular caution, you never knew what ideas 'e'd get in 'is 'ead next; but she got a plate and wiped it quickly with her apron, then took a new knife and fork from the chest of drawers, where her best cutlery rested among her best clothes. There was a jug of stout on the table, and 'Erb poured Philip out a glass. He wanted to give him the lion's share of the beeksteak, but Philip insisted that they should share alike. It was a sunny room with two windows that reached to the floor; it had been the parlour of a house which at one time was if not fashionable at least respectable: it might have been inhabited fifty years before by a well-to-do tradesman or an officer on half pay. 'Erb had been a football player before he married, and there were photographs on the wall of various teams in self-conscious attitudes, with neatly plastered hair, the captain seated proudly in the middle holding a cup. There were other signs of prosperity: photographs of the relations of 'Erb and his wife in Sunday clothes; on the chimney-piece an elaborate arrangement of shells stuck on a miniature rock; and on each side mugs, 'A present from Southend' in Gothic letters, with pictures of a pier and a parade on them. 'Erb was something of a character; he was a non-union man and expressed himself with indignation at the efforts of the union to force him to join. The union wasn't no good to him, he never found no difficulty in getting work, and there was good wages for anyone as 'ad a head on his shoulders and wasn't above puttin' 'is 'and to anything as come 'is way. Polly was timorous. If she was 'im she'd join the union, the last time there was a strike she was expectin' 'im to be brought back in an ambulance every time he went out. She turned to Philip.
"He's that obstinate, there's no doing anything with 'im."
