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."