Something awful!
Charlotte.
Cheer up, Aggy! What is it?
Agatha Posket.
Well, Charley, you know I lost my poor dear first husband at a very delicate age.
Charlotte.
Well, you were five-and-thirty, dear.
Agatha Posket.
Yes, that’s what I mean. Five-and-thirty is a very delicate age to find yourself single. You’re neither one thing nor the other. You’re not exactly a two-year-old, and you don’t care to pull a hansom. However, I soon met Mr. Posket at Spa—bless him!