"Filth," grunted Trent--"ugh! I tell you what it is, my venerable friend--I have seen some dirty cabins in the west of Ireland and some vile holes in East London.

I've been in some places which I can't think of even now without feeling sick.

I'm not a particular chap, wasn't brought up to it--no, nor squeamish either, but this is a bit thicker than anything I've ever knocked up against.

If Francis doesn't hurry we'll have to chuck it! We shall never stand it out, Monty!" The older man, gaunt, blear-eyed, ragged, turned over on his side.

His appearance was little short of repulsive.