|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
`Yes, it is, rather,' replied Harlow with a grin.
`I think this would be a very good time to take up the collection, don't you?'
`Yes, it wouldn't be a bad idear.'
`Well, I'll put me cap on the stairs,' said Philpot, suiting the action to the word. `You never knows yer luck. Things is gettin' a
bit serious on this floor, you know; my mate's fainted away once already!'
Philpot now went back to his room to await developments: but as Sweater made no sign, he returned to the landing and again hailed Harlow.
`I always reckon a man can work all the better after 'e's 'ad a drink: you can seem to get over more of it, like.'
`Oh, that's true enough,' responded Harlow. `I've often noticed it meself.'
Sweater came out of the front bedroom and passed into one of the back rooms without any notice of either of the men.