| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 1629 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
passed - without seeing them - several groups of unemployed artisans whom he knew. Some of them were offended and remarked that he was getting stuck up, but others, observing how strange he looked, repeated the old prophecy that one of these days Owen would go out of his mind. As he drew near to his destination large flakes of snow began to fall. He walked so rapidly and was in such a fury that by the time he reached the shop he was scarcely able to speak. `Is - Hunter - or Rushton here?' he demanded of the shopman. `Hunter isn't, but the guv'nor is. What was it you wanted?' `He'll soon - know - that,' panted Owen as he strode up to the office door, and without troubling to knock, |
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