He drew himself up, thought a moment, then threw himself far forward again over the desk as though the better to launch what he had to say, his voice taking a grinding determined note.
He had been in all parts of the division, he said; seen everything, inquired into everything.

No doubt, on the great properties there had been a good deal done of late years--public opinion had effected something, the landlords had been forced to disgorge some of the gains wrested from labour, to pay for the decent housing of the labourer.

But did anybody suppose that _enough_ had been done?
Why, he had seen _dens_--aye, on the best properties--not fit for the pigs that the farmers wouldn't let the labourers keep, lest they should steal their straw for the littering of them!--where a man was bound to live the life of a beast, and his children after him-- A tall thin man of about sixty rose in his place, and pointed a long quavering finger at the speaker.
"What is it, Darwin?
speak up!" said Wharton, dropping at once into the colloquial tone, and stooping forward to listen.
"My sleepin' room's six foot nine by seven foot six.

We have to shift our bed for the rain's comin' in, an' yer may see for yoursels ther ain't much room to shift it in.

An' beyont us ther's a room for the chillen, same size as ourn, an' no window, nothin' but the door into us.
Ov a summer night the chillen, three on 'em, is all of a sweat afore they're asleep.