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"How can I tell you that?" ses George Hat-chard. "'If I'd known 'ow, it wouldn't 'ave been an accident, would it?" "Don't you want to marry her?" ses Alf, at last. "You needn't marry 'er if you don't want to." George Hatchard looked at 'im and sniffed. "When you know her as well as I do you won't talk so foolish," he ses. "We'd better go down now, else she'll think we've been talking about 'er."
"I ain't the fainting sort." "I 'ope it's nothing unpleasant," ses George Hat-chard, pouring 'im out a glass of whisky. "Quite the opposite," ses Bill. "It's the best news she's 'eard for fifteen years." "Are you going to tell me wot you want, or ain't you?" ses Mrs. Pearce. "I'm coming to it," ses Bill.
"It don't affect 'er appetite," ses George Hat-chard, trying to make things pleasant, "and that's the main thing." Mrs. Morgan got up to go, but arter George Hat-chard 'ad explained wot he didn't mean she sat down agin and began to talk to Mrs. Pearce about 'er dress and 'ow beautifully it was made. And she asked Mrs.
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