| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 324 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
During the morning, as Easton and Owen were working together in the drawing-room, the former remarked: `Did I tell you I had a room I wanted to let, Frank?' `Yes, I think you did.' `Well, I've let it to Slyme. I think he seems a very decent sort of chap, don't you?' `Yes, I suppose he is,' replied Owen, hesitatingly. `I know nothing against him.' `Of course, we'd rather 'ave the 'ouse to ourselves if we could afford it, but work is so scarce lately. I've been figuring out exactly what my money has averaged for the last twelve months and how much a week do you think it comes to?' `God only knows,' said Owen. `How much?' `About eighteen bob.' |
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