| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 243 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
a pause. Easton laughed. `Well, to tell you the truth I've not used anywhere's lately. Been 'avin too many 'ollerdays.' `That do make a bit of difference, don't it?' said Crass. `But you'll be all right 'ere, till this job's done. Just watch yerself a bit, and don't get comin' late in the mornin's. Old Nimrod's dead nuts on that.' `I'll see to that all right,' replied Easton. `I don't believe in losing time when there IS work to do. It's bad enough when you can't get it.' `You know,' Crass went on, confidentially. `Between me an' you an' the gatepost, as the sayin' is, I don't think Mr bloody Owen will be 'ere much longer. Nimrod 'ates the sight of 'im.' Easton had it in his mind to say that Nimrod seemed to hate the sight of all of them: but he made no remark, and Crass continued: |
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