His voice sank to a hiss of rage, and Mr. Pitt, nervously shrinking within himself, sought for his hat and made towards the door. A terrific gust of rain just then swept against the windows like a shower of small stones, accompanied by the shrieking yowl of the wind. “Christmas Eve!” repeated McNason, fixing his eyes with cold derision on his abashed overseer--“Peace and goodwill! That sounds like it, doesn’t it?” And he shook one hand with a mocking gesture towards the rattling casements. “Hear the storm? Any angels singing in it, do you think? Any God about? Bah! Christmas is a vulgar superstition born of barbarous idolatry! It serves nowadays as a mere excuse for the lower classes to gorge themselves with food, get drunk, and generally make beasts of themselves! There is no more ‘Peace and goodwill’ in it than there is in a public-house beer fight! And as for doing kindnesses to each other, I’ll be bound there’s not a man at my works who isn’t trying to get a bigger round of beef or a fatter goose for himself than his neighbour can afford. That’s charity! It begins at home! _You_ know that, Mr. Pitt! Ha-ha! You know that--you have a large family! Christmas is a humbug, like most ‘religious’ festivals”--here he stretched his thin mouth into that unbecoming slit which suggested smiling, but was nothing like a smile--“I never keep it--and I do my best to forget it! Good-night!” “Good-night, sir,”--and Mr. Pitt, hat in hand, stood for a moment facing his employer--“I am sorry if I have troubled you--or--or offended you! I did not mean to do so. I hope you will excuse my boldness! I made a mistake--I thought you might be pleased to do something for an old servant of the firm;--I--I--er--Good-night!” The door opened and closed softly. He was gone. McNason looked after him with a frown. “Like his impudence!” he muttered--“Like his damned impudence! Following me up here all the way from the city and begging me to lend two hundred pounds to a man I hardly ever saw--except--except once or twice when my boy was alive. Among the hundreds and hundreds of travellers for the firm, how the devil should I be expected to remember Willie Dove!”