|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
None of the men looked round from their work or spoke either to Rushton or to each other. The only sounds heard were the noises made by the saws and hammers of the carpenters who were fixing the frieze rails and dado rails or repairing parts of the woodwork in some of the rooms.
Crass placed himself in Rushton's way several times with the hope of being spoken to, but beyond curtly acknowledging the `foreman's' servile `Good afternoon, sir,' the master took no notice of him.
After about an hour spent in this manner Rushton went away, but as no one say him go, it was not until some considerable time after his departure that they knew that he was gone.
Owen was secretly very disappointed. `I thought he had come to tell me about the drawing-room,' he said to himself, `but I suppose it's not decided yet.'
Just as the `hands' were beginning to breathe freely again,