we'd 'eard? They don't do much singin' and dancin' in this country, do they?"
"Noa. The song is froze in their 'earts wiv the cold, and the dance dried up their bones wiv the 'eat. Wot's the use?"
"Awbert, d'you mind the Bank 'Olerd'ys at 'Amstead 'Eath? The donkeys, and the cocoanut shies, and the swings?"
"And wasn't I waxy, when I caught you dancin' the Mazurker wiv a Jacky?"
"Jackies allers dance better than Tommies somew'y."
"That's because they've the 'ole deck to practise on."
May snuggled closer, pressing her shoulder under his armpit. She breathed: "Awbert, d'you mind the time you knocked me about so? I lay in a swound and—there was blood—"
He hid his face against hers. "Aoh, M'y, don't! You know I was sorry."
"I bet you was! W'y you bought me a hyercinth and it—bloomed."
"M'y, are you goin' to stop the night?"
"No. I've come to s'y good-bye, ducky. I'm leavin' for 'ome on the midnight train. I've got all I'm goin' to tyke in that bundle. I'm goin' 'ome."
He threw her from him and sprang to his feet facing her.
"Goin' 'ome! Ter leave me! M'y! 'Ave yer gone balmy? Leavin' me 'ere in this bloomin' 'ole! Wot's got inter you, anyw'y?"
"I'm finished. That's wot." Her eyes were flaming. Her voice cut like a knife. "Wot d'you think I'm myde of? Wot d'you tyke me for? Do you fancy I'll drudge my life out in that hotel wiv 'er flauntin' 'er plumes in me fyce? Do you think I'll be pitied by the other servants
