| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 559 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
fireplace - in the act of breaking a whole roll of wallpaper across his knee as one might break a stick. On the floor beside him was what had been another roll, now broken into two pieces. When Harlow came in, Slyme started, and his face became crimson with confusion. He hastily gathered the broken rolls together and, stooping down, thrust the pieces up the flue of the grate and closed the register. `Wot's the bloody game?' inquired Harlow. Slyme laughed with an affectation of carelessness, but his hands trembled and his face was now very pale. `We must get our own back somehow, you know, Fred,' he said. Harlow did not reply. He did not understand. After puzzling over it for a |
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