| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 129 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
she crouched there, crying furtively and trying not to let him see. At last she said, without looking round: `You know quite well that you were just as much in favour of gettingthem as I was. If we hadn't got the oilcloth there would have been illness in the house because of the way the wind used to come up between the floorboards. Even now of a windy day the oilcloth moves up and down.' `Well, I'm sure I don't know,' said Easton, as he looked alternatively at the list of debts and the three letters. `I give you nearly every farthing I earn and I never interfere about anything, because I think it's your part to attend to the house, but it seems to me you don't manage things properly.' The woman suddenly burst into a passion of weeping, laying her head on the seat of the chair that was standing near the cradle. Easton started up in surprise. |
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