n t to look in at to drop some papers, I aking to go and fetceet  of my mind for some time past. t I een quid  is. It  rology applied to  it’s all a question of influence of ts on te outsider, but  seemed  ts t o be in t. Mellors, rology business, ting several quid on t doo do to s en bob, t bet as a general rule. Sure enoug t odds, but my s at seventeen quid. By a kind of instinct—rating anot quietly put to anybody. I’d never done anyt it on a dress for ’s my s for t I’d been a good een years and I o get fed up .

    After I’d soaped myself all over I felt better and lay doo t my seventeen quid and o spend it on. ternatives, it seemed to me,  quietly aurned on some more  er and  eps t lead to t  mug. tic stamping outside and then a yell of agony.

    ‘Dadda! I wanna come in!’

    ‘ell, you can’t. Clear out!’

    ‘But dadda! I wanna go somewhere!’

    ‘Go somew. I’m h.’

    ‘Dad-DA! I wanna GO SOME—hERE!’

    No use! I kne  partially dry as quickly as I could. As I opened ttle Billy—my youngest, aged seven—s past me, dodging t   I discovered t my neck ill soapy.

    It’s a rotten to  gives you a disgusting sticky feeling, and t,  aicky for t of t doairs in a bad temper and ready to make myself disagreeable.

    Our dining-room, like ttle place, fourteen feet by t’s ten, and ty decanters and tand t , doesn’t leave muceapot, in ate of alarm and dismay because t tter  lig it ly cold. I bent do a matco t to tle sidelong glance t sravagant.

    y-nine