Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
Page | 91 |
Chapter | -- |
Text |
who it was. Directly his back was turned Crass seized a bottle of oil that was standing near and, tipping about half a pint of it into the paint, stirred it up quickly. Misery returned almost immediately: he had not caught anyone; it must have been fancy. He took up the brush and began to paint. The result was worse than Sawkins! He messed and fooled about for some time, but could not make it come right. At last he gave it up. `I suppose it'll have to have two coats after all,' he said, mournfully. `But it's a thousand pities.' He almost wept. The firm would be ruined if things went on like this. `You'd better go on with it,' he said as he laid down the brush. He began to walk about the house |