| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 172 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
his own sorrowful childhood was all evidence to the contrary. An awkward silence succeeded. Owen did not wish to continue this conversation: he was afraid that he might say something that would hurt the old woman. Besides, he was anxious to get away; he began to feel cold in his wet clothes. As he put his empty cup on the table he said: `Well, I must be going. They'll be thinking I'm lost, at home.' The kitten had finished all the bread and milk and was gravely washing its face with one of its forepaws, to the great admiration of the two children, who were sitting on the floor beside it. It was an artful-looking kitten, all black, with a very large head and a very small body. It reminded Owen of a tadpole. `Do you like cats?' he asked, addressing the children. |
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