| Title | The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists |
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| Page | 468 |
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| Chapter | -- |
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| Text |
it?' Crass continued with a malignant leer. `Not arf!' said Harlow. When the two men regained the upper landing on which they were working they exchanged significant glances and laughed quietly. Hearing these half-suppressed sounds of merriment, Philpot, who was working alone in a room close by, put his head out of the doorway. `Wot's the game?' he inquired in a low voice. `Ole Crass ain't arf wild about Owen doin' that room,' replied Harlow, and repeated the substance of Crass's remarks. `It is a bit of a take-down for the bleeder, ain't it, 'avin' to play second fiddle,' said Philpot with a delighted grin. `'E's opin' Owen'll make a mess of it,' Easton whispered. `Well, 'e'll be disappointed, mate,' |
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