She had had such a lovely dinner
-a cushion of ham and green peas. She had had a good cry over it,
but then she was so silly, she was.
"And there's that Bell," she continued, though I could not detect
any appearance of connection, "it's enough to give anyone the hump
to see him now that he's taken to chapel-going, and his mother's
prepared to meet Jesus and all that to me, and now she ain't a-going
to die, and drinks half a bottle of champagne a day, and then Grigg,
him as preaches, you know, asked Bell if I really was too gay, not but
what when I was young I'd snap my fingers at any 'fly by night' in
Holborn, and if I was togged out and had my teeth I'd do it now. I
lost my poor dear Watkins, but of course that couldn't be helped,
and then I lost my dear Rose. Silly faggot to go and ride on a cart
and catch the bronchitics. I never thought when I kissed my dear
Rose in Pullen's Passage and she gave me the chop, that I should never
see her again, and her gentleman friend was fond her too, though he
was a married man. I daresay she's gone to bits by now. If she could
rise and see me with my bad finger, she would cry, and I should say,
'Never mind, ducky, I'm all right.
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