You wait just 'arf a mo!' He had a piece of clean rag in his tool bag, and there was a can of turps in the room.

Moistening the rag slightly with turps he carefully removed the paint from Sweater's sleeve.
'It's all orf not, sir,' he remarked, as he rubbed the place with a dry part of the rag.

'The smell of the turps will go away in about a hour's time.' 'Thanks,' said Sweater.
Philpot looked at him wistfully, but Sweater evidently did not understand, and began looking about the room.
'I see they've put a new piece of skirting here,' he observed.
'Yes, sir,' said Newman, who came into the room just then to get the turps.

'The old piece was all to bits with dry-rot.' 'I feel as if I 'ad a touch of the dry-rot meself, don't you ?' said Philpot to Newman, who smiled feebly and cast a sidelong glance at Sweater, who did not appear to notice the significance of the remark, but walked out of the room and began climbing up to the next floor, where Harlow and Sawkins were working.
'Well, there's a bleeder for yer!' said Philpot with indignation.
'After all the trouble I took to clean 'is coat! Not a bloody stiver! Well, it takes the cake, don't it ?' 'I told you 'ow it would be, didn't I ?' replied Newman.
'P'raps I didn't make it plain enough,' said Philpot, thoughtfully.

'We must try to get some of our own back somehow, you know.' Going out on the landing he called softly upstairs.
'I say, Harlow.' 'Hallo,' said that individual, looking over the banisters.
''Ow are yer getting on up there ?' 'Oh, all right, you know.' 'Pretty dry job, ain't it ?' Philpot continued, raising his voice a little and winking at Harlow.
'Yes, it is, rather,' replied Harlow with a grin.
'I think this would be a very good time to take up the collection, don't you ?' 'Yes, it wouldn't be a bad idear.' 'Well, I'll put me cap on the stairs,' said Philpot, suiting the action to the word.