KIPPS
upstairs anywhere—every drop got to be carried! It's 'ouses like this wear girls out.
"It's 'aving 'ouses built by men, I believe, makes all the work and trouble," said Ann. . . .
The Kippses, you see, thought they were looking for a reasonably simple little contemporary house, but indeed they were looking either for dreamland or 1975 A.D. or thereabouts, and it hadn't come.
§ 3
But it was a foolish thing for Kipps to begin building a house.
He did that out of an extraordinary animosity for house agents he had conceived.
Everybody hates house agents just as everybody loves sailors. It is no doubt a very wicked and unjust hatred, but the business of a novelist is not ethical principle but facts. Everybody hates house agents because they have everybody at a disadvantage. All other callings have a certain amount of give and take; the house agent simply takes. All other callings want you; your solicitor is afraid you may change him, your doctor cannot go too far, your novelist—if only you knew it—is mutely abject towards your unspoken wishes; and as for your tradespeople, milkmen will fight outside your front door for you, and green-grocers call in tears if you discard them suddenly; but who ever heard of a house agent struggling to serve anyone? You want a house; you go to him, you dishevelled and angry from travel, anxious, inquiring; he calm, clean, in-
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