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A follow-up to http://wellinghall.livejournal.com/647187.html
Two days later, Stanford was shown up to our rooms, and bore good news; he had arranged an appointment for me the following morning. He assured me that the interview would be little more than a formality; the company was in great need of engineers, as there was much tunnelling work with the expansion of the underground railway, together with the growth of the pneumatic and hydraulic networks. As long as I could prove my credentials and show that I only had one head - it seemed that the managing director had some prejudice against Betelgusians - I would be assured of a position. Still, I thought it prudent to polish my boots, and to ask Mrs Taylor to sponge and press my suit.
The next morning, I headed into town, and sought the offices of Messrs Grubb, Grubb and Burrowes. I found them readily enough, and was shown into a comfortable, although slightly shabby, room. I was greeted by a gentleman of about my own age, dignified by the appelation of "Young Mr Burrowes" - the grandson of one of the original founders, I learnt. He quickly got down to business, asked me a few questions, and examined my certificates. After little more than half an hour, he leaned back in his chair, thought a moment, and asked if I could start the following Monday! The salary he offered was appreciably more than my previous one with the sappers, and when added to my wound pension, should offer me ample opportunity for exploring the cultural pleasures of our great capital. I accepted with alacrity, and headed into town for a celebratory lunch.
Over the next few days, I was able to see something of Swannage. He seemed to have no regular employment, but the ever-changing chalk-marks and acid stains on his clothing and his fingers showed that he was a regular visitor to his bench at the University. He also received visitors, who apparently had been sent round from his old lodgings. There was a whaler; a young lady in a startlingly blue cloak; and a pair of kobolds, visiting from Germany by their accents, whose card I took in case they could be of use to me in my work. Swannage would say little about these strange intruders into our lives, save that they were his clients, and the source of his livelihood; but on other matters, he was more garrulous, talking for long periods about the opera and the ballet.
The following Monday arrived soon enough, and I headed into town. I was again met by Young Mr Burrowes, who directed me to take over the work on the new hydraulic power tunnel on the Embankment. It seemed that the previous engineer on that line had been enticed away by a rival concern, the Franco Midland Hardware Company, and as a result the work was falling behind schedule. I was equipped with overalls, boots &c, and instructed as to the nearest access point, where I would meet the labourers engaged on the work.
I was looking forward to getting back in harness, and wondered just what we might find under the Embankment.
Two days later, Stanford was shown up to our rooms, and bore good news; he had arranged an appointment for me the following morning. He assured me that the interview would be little more than a formality; the company was in great need of engineers, as there was much tunnelling work with the expansion of the underground railway, together with the growth of the pneumatic and hydraulic networks. As long as I could prove my credentials and show that I only had one head - it seemed that the managing director had some prejudice against Betelgusians - I would be assured of a position. Still, I thought it prudent to polish my boots, and to ask Mrs Taylor to sponge and press my suit.
The next morning, I headed into town, and sought the offices of Messrs Grubb, Grubb and Burrowes. I found them readily enough, and was shown into a comfortable, although slightly shabby, room. I was greeted by a gentleman of about my own age, dignified by the appelation of "Young Mr Burrowes" - the grandson of one of the original founders, I learnt. He quickly got down to business, asked me a few questions, and examined my certificates. After little more than half an hour, he leaned back in his chair, thought a moment, and asked if I could start the following Monday! The salary he offered was appreciably more than my previous one with the sappers, and when added to my wound pension, should offer me ample opportunity for exploring the cultural pleasures of our great capital. I accepted with alacrity, and headed into town for a celebratory lunch.
Over the next few days, I was able to see something of Swannage. He seemed to have no regular employment, but the ever-changing chalk-marks and acid stains on his clothing and his fingers showed that he was a regular visitor to his bench at the University. He also received visitors, who apparently had been sent round from his old lodgings. There was a whaler; a young lady in a startlingly blue cloak; and a pair of kobolds, visiting from Germany by their accents, whose card I took in case they could be of use to me in my work. Swannage would say little about these strange intruders into our lives, save that they were his clients, and the source of his livelihood; but on other matters, he was more garrulous, talking for long periods about the opera and the ballet.
The following Monday arrived soon enough, and I headed into town. I was again met by Young Mr Burrowes, who directed me to take over the work on the new hydraulic power tunnel on the Embankment. It seemed that the previous engineer on that line had been enticed away by a rival concern, the Franco Midland Hardware Company, and as a result the work was falling behind schedule. I was equipped with overalls, boots &c, and instructed as to the nearest access point, where I would meet the labourers engaged on the work.
I was looking forward to getting back in harness, and wondered just what we might find under the Embankment.