|Title||The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists|
`I believe that man's the biggest liar Gord ever made,' said Easton, an opinion in which Harlow entirely concurred.
`I wonder what the time is?' said the latter after a pause.
`I don't know exactly,' replied Easton, 'but it can't be far off twelve.'
`'E don't seem to be comin', does 'e?' Harlow continued.
`No: and I shouldn't be surprised if 'e didn't turn up at all, now. P'raps 'e don't mean to stop nobody today after all.'
They spoke in hushed tones and glanced cautiously about them fearful of being heard or observed.
`This is a bloody life, ain't it?' Harlow said, bitterly. `Workin' our guts out like a lot of slaves for the benefit