| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 92 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
again. He wanted to go away now, but he did not want them to know that he was gone, so he sneaked out of the back door, crept around the house and out of the gate, mounted his bicycle and rode away. No one saw him go. For some time the only sounds that broke the silence were the noises made by the hands as they worked. The musical ringing of Bundy's trowel, the noise of the carpenters' hammers and saws and the occasional moving of a pair of steps. No one dared to speak. At last Philpot could stand it no longer. He was very thirsty. He had kept the door of his room open since Hunter arrived. He listened intently. He felt certain that Hunter must be gone: he looked across the landing and could see Owen working in the front room. Philpot made a |
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