|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
was only able to do it in her spare time, but then, as she often remarked, every little helped.
The floor was covered with linoleum: there were a number of framed pictures on the walls, and on the high mantelshelf were a number of brightly polished tins and copper utensils. The room had that indescribably homelike, cosy air that is found only in those houses in which the inhabitants have dwelt for a very long time.
The younger woman was already pouring out a cup of tea.
Old Mrs Linden, who had never seen Owen before, although she had heard of him, belonged to the Church of England and was intensely religious.
She looked curiously at the Atheist as he entered the room. He had taken off his hat and she was surprised to find that he was not repulsive to look at, rather the contrary.