"Wright."
"Qui-so." He pulled himself together again. "Quite so. Now I say, it's hard on the jade. You say, 'Nothing of the sort: she's made her bed and must lie on it.'"
"No, I don't."
"I—er—beg your pardon? You must allow me finish my argument. I say, 'Look here, I'm a gentleman: feelings of a gentleman'— You're not a gentleman, eh?"
"Not a bit like one," the plumber agreed cheerfully.
"Tha's what I thought. Allow me to say so, I respect you for it—for speaking out, I mean. Now what I say is, wench kicks over the traces—serve her right wharrever happens: but there's family to consider—"
Here Mr. Wright interrupted firmly. "Bless your heart, Mr. Ellison,
I quite see. I've made a mistake this morning."
"No offence, you understand."
"No offence at all. It turns out I've given the wrong man a ducking."
"Eh?"