"'Ow," she said, "yuv come at last, ye bleedin' makeshift!"
We pushed him inside, and the door was closed behind him, and we walked about and waited. When, nearly an hour later, the remaining fragments of my rash friend were restored to us, Mrs. Groat came after them and made further speech.
"Ye spiteful old crow," she cried. "Ye didn't 'arf make 'er 'oller, did ye? I'll show ye spite. I'll pay ye out for bein' ser spiteful. Jes'you see. I'll pay ye out."
Which she did. For when, after making the homeward journey in such a fashion as to cause amazement and amusement to the whole neighbourhood, we did arrive at the doctor's own house, it was to find that a medicine bottle had found its billet on the consulting-room floor by way of the consulting-room window.
Tewksbury came down and helped us to carry the doctor up. And when we had flopped our burden on to a couch, and Tewksbury had leisure for reflection, he said—
"You will never convince me that this was all produced by burgundy."
XXX
DIALOGUE WITH A BRIDE
She was rather a juvenile sort of bride: so much so, in fact, that a civilised inquirer might have supposed the baby on her breast and the ring upon her finger to be mere playthings.
It was to be gathered, from her opening statement, that she was inured to the married state, and that it held no terror for her.