I don't enjoy good food. I don't enjoy flashy cars. I don't care if I live in a dump. I don't enjoy good clothes. This is the best I've dressed in months.
Anecdote: The East End seemed to be in the grip of yet another economic crisis. . . . By the winter of 1933, an army of the unemployed gathered daily outside the dock gates, desperate for a day or 2 paid work. . . . . There was no cushion, no disaster fund, no stashed savings, no government handouts no syrup that could sweeten the bitter pill of poverty.