o be Labour Serfs it
seemed to them almost as though they were falling among offensive
inferior animals; they felt as a nineteenth-century duke and duchess
might have felt who were forced to take rooms in the Jago.

Their natural impulse was to maintain a "distance." But Denton's first
idea of a dignified isolation from his new surroundings was soon rudely
dispelled. He had imagined that his fall to the position of a Labour
Serf was the end of his lesson, that when their little daughter had died
he had plumbed the deeps of life; but indeed these things were only the
beginning. Life demands something more from us than acquiescence. And
now in a roomful of machine minders he was to learn a wider lesson, to
make the acquaintance of another factor in life, a factor as elemental
as the loss of things dear to us, more elemental even than toil.

His quiet discouragement of conversation was an immediate cause of
offence--was interpreted, rightly enough I fear, as disdain. His
ignorance of the vulgar dialect, a thing upon which he had hitherto
prided himself, suddenly took upon itself a new aspect. He failed to
perceive at once that his reception of the coarse and stupid but
genially intended remarks that greeted his appearance must have stung
the makers of these advances like blows in their faces. "Don't
understand," he said rather coldly, and at hazard, "No, thank you."

The man who had addressed him stared, scowled, and turned away.

A second, who also failed at Denton's unaccustomed ear, took the trouble
to repeat his remark, and Denton discovered he was being offered the use
of an oil can. He expressed polite thanks, and this second man embarked
upon a penetrating conversation. Denton, he remarked, had been a swell,
and he wanted to know how he had come to wear the blue. He clearly
expected an interesting record of vice and extravagance. Had Denton ever
been at a Pleasure City? Denton was speedily to discover how the
existence of these wonderful places of delight permeated and defiled the
thought and honour of these unwilling, hopeless workers of the
underworld.

His aristocratic temperament resented these questions. He answered "No"
curtly. The man persisted with a still more personal question, and this
time it was Denton who turned away.

"Gorblimey!" said his interlocutor, much astonished.

It presently forced itself upon Denton's mind that this remarkable
conversation was being repeated in indignant tones to more