| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 344 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
On Thursday Owen stayed at home until after breakfast to finish the designs which he had promised to have ready that morning. When he took them to the office at nine o'clock, the hour at which he had arranged to meet Rushton, the latter had not yet arrived, and he did not put in an appearance until half an hour later. Like the majority of people who do brain work, he needed a great deal more rest than those who do only mere physical labour. `Oh, you've brought them sketches, I suppose,' he remarked in a surly tone as he came in. `You know, there was no need for you to wait: you could 'ave left 'em 'ere and gone on to your job.' He sat down at his desk and looked carelessly at the drawing that Owen handed to him. It was on a sheet of paper about twenty-four by eighteen inches. The design was drawn with pencil and one half of it was coloured. `That's for the ceiling,' said Owen. `I hadn't |
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