They are the most consumed
idealists in creation, especially the women. Again and again
work-girls have said to me: "Oh, I don't like that book; it's
nothing but real life."'
'It's the fault of women in general,' remarked Reardon.
'So it is, but it comes out with delicious naivete in the working
classes. Now, educated people like to read of scenes that are
familiar to them, though I grant you that the picture must be
idealised if you're to appeal to more than one in a thousand. The
working classes detest anything that tries to represent their
daily life. It isn't because that life is too painful; no, no;
it's downright snobbishness. Dickens goes down only with the best
of them, and then solely because of his strength in farce and his
melodrama.'
Presently the three went out together, and had dinner at an a la
mode beef shop. Mr Sykes ate little, but took copious libations
of porter at twopence a pint. When the meal was over he grew
taciturn.
'Can you walk westwards?' Biffen asked.
'I'm afraid not, afraid not. In fact I have an appointment at
two--at Aldgate station.
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