"Did you have that flannel singlet made ?" "Not yet," he smiled.
"Then, why didn't you ?" she cried.
"It'll come," he smiled.
"Ah, an' Doomsday!" exclaimed Barker.
Barker and Morel were both impatient of Wesson.

But, then, they were both as hard as nails, physically.
When Morel was nearly ready he pushed the bag of money to Paul.
"Count it, boy," he asked humbly.
Paul impatiently turned from his books and pencil, tipped the bag upside down on the table.

There was a five-pound bag of silver, sovereigns and loose money.

He counted quickly, referred to the checks--the written papers giving amount of coal--put the money in order.

Then Barker glanced at the checks.
Mrs.Morel went upstairs, and the three men came to table.