You can larf! A man can change a lot in fifteen years!
MANSON. I didn't laugh.
ROBERT. Do you want to know wot's come over me since then? I work—and work well: that's more than some of 'em can say— And I don't get much money for it, either! That ought to mek 'em feel ashamed! I'm not the drunkard I was—not by 'arf! If I'm bitter, oo's made me bitter? You cawn't be very sweet and perlite on eighteen bob a week—when yer get it! I'll tell yer summat else: I've eddicated myself since then—I'm not the gory fool I was— And they know it! They can't come playin' the 'anky with us, same as they used to! It's Nice Mister Working-man This and Nice Mister Working-man That, will yer be so 'ighly hobliging as to 'and over your dear little voting-paper—you poor, sweet, muddy-nosed old Idiot, as can't spot your natural enemy when yer see 'im! That orter mek some on 'em sit up!
Fifteen years ago me an' my like 'adn't got a religion! By Gawd, we 'av' one now! Like to 'ear wot it is?
MANSON. Yes.
ROBERT. SOCIALISM! Funny, ain't it?
MANSON. I don't think so. It's mine, too.
ROBERT. I believe in fighting with my clarss!
MANSON. Oh, against whom?
ROBERT. Why, agin all the other clarsses—curse 'em!