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Updated: May 6, 2025
'E was starin' at it wild-like, and a-mutterin' to 'isself. I 'eard 'im say, quite distinct, "Oh, Marryun, Marryun, my beautiful darlin', 'ow I adore you," ses e. "I'm not 'arf mad about you." An' then 'e starts kissin' the photo until I thinks 'e'll crack the glarss of the frame with 'is passion and 'ot breath. I stared at her, scarcely able to believe the evidence of my own ears.
I was cut up at the time, but I know now 'e wasn't my Fate, 'avin been told since that I'm goin' to marry a man wot'll work with 'is brain. So cheer up, Miss Marryun, and come an' 'ave this nice glarss o' stout I've brought in for you. She unscrewed the bottle as she spoke. 'I always find that when things are at their worst, an' you're feelin' real pipped like, a glarss o' stout acts like magic.
'What is this? I inquired. 'I thort p'raps you'd like to drink to the occashun of the 'appy 'ome-coming in a nice glarss o' stout, she explained. I noted that there were three glasses. 'Elizabeth, I said coldly, 'you are unduly familiar. I protest 'Oh, hang it all, let's be democratic, put in Henry, grinning. 'It's only your joie de vivre and natural bonhomie, isn't it, Elizabeth?
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