E Phillips Oppenheim

A Millionaire of Yesterday E Phillips Oppenheim

"Filth," grunted Trent-"ugh! I tell you what it is, my venerable friend-I have seen somedirty cabins in the west of Ireland and some vile holes in East London. I've been in someplaces which I can't think of even now without feeling sick. I'm not a particular chap, wasn'tbrought up to it-no, nor squeamish either, but this is a bit thicker than anything I've everknocked up against. If Francis doesn't hurry we'll have to chuck it! We shall never stand itout, Monty!"The older man, gaunt, blear-eyed, ragged, turned over on his side. His appearance waslittle short of repulsive. His voice when he spoke was, curiously enough, the voice of agentleman, thick and a trifle rough though it sounded."My young friend," he said, "I agree with you-in effect-most heartily. The place isfilthy, the surroundings are repulsive, not to add degrading. The society is-er-notcongenial-I allude of course to our hosts-and the attentions of these unwashed, and I amafraid I must say unclothed, ladies of dusky complexion is to say the least of itembarrassing.""Dusky complexion!" Trent interrupted scornfully, "they're coal black!"Monty nodded his head with solemn emphasis. "I will go so far as to admit that you areright," he acknowledged. "They are as black as sin! But, my friend Trent, I want you toconsider this: If the nature of our surroundings is offensive to you, think what it must be tome. I may, I presume, between ourselves, allude to you as one of the people. Refinementand luxury have never come in your way, far less have they become indispensable to you. You were, I believe, educated at a Board School, I was at Eton. Afterwards you wereapprenticed to a harness-maker, I-but no matter! Let us summarise the situation."