They penetrated downward, ever downward, towards the working places.  Presently they passed underneath one of the streets of the moving ways, and saw its platforms running on their rails far overhead, and chinks of white lights between the transverse slits.  The factories that were not working were sparsely lighted; to Graham they and their shrouded aisles of giant machines seemed plunged in gloom, and even where work was going on the illumination was far less brilliant than upon the public ways.

Beyond the blazing lakes of Eadhamite he came to the warren of the jewellers, and, with some difficulty and by using his signature, obtained admission to these galleries.  They were high and dark, and rather cold.  In the first a few men were making ornaments of gold filigree, each man at a little bench by himself, and with a little shaded light.  The long vista of light patches, with the nimble fingers brightly lit and moving among the gleaming yellow coils, and the intent face like the face of a ghost, in each shadow, had the oddest effect.

The work was beautifully executed, but without any strength of modelling or drawing, for the most part intricate grotesques or the ringing of the changes on a geometrical motif.  These workers wore a peculiar white uniform without pockets or sleeves.  They assumed this on coming to work, but at night they were stripped and examined before they left the premises of the Department.  In spite of every precaution, the Labour policeman told them in a depressed tone, the Department was not infrequently robbed.

Beyond was a gallery of women busied in cutting and setting slabs of artificial ruby, and next these were men and women working together upon the slabs of copper net that formed the basis of cloisonne tiles.  Many of these workers had lips and nostrils a livid white, due to a disease caused by a peculiar purple enamel that chanced to be much in fashion.  Asano apologised to Graham for this offensive sight, but excused himself on the score of the convenience of this route.  “This is what I wanted to see,” said Graham; “this is what I wanted to see,” trying to avoid a start at a particularly striking disfigurement.

“She might have done better with herself than that,” said Asano.

Graham made some indignant comments.

“But, Sire, we simply could not stand that stuff without the purple,” said Asano.  “In your days people could stand such crudities, they were nearer the barbaric by two hundred years.”

They continued along one of the lower galleries of this cloisonne factory, and came to a little bridge that spanned a vault.  Looking over the parapet, Graham saw that beneath was a wharf under yet more tremendous archings than any he had seen.  Three barges, smothered in floury dust, were being unloaded of their cargoes of powdered felspar by a multitude of coughing men, each guiding a little truck; the dust filled the place with a choking mist, and turned the electric glare yellow.  The vague shadows of these workers gesticulated about their feet, and rushed to and fro against a long stretch of white-washed wall.  Every now and then one would stop to cough.