Bill. Clean your boots, sir? Shine 'em till they grin like a Cheshire cat eatin' cheese!
Wat. Shine away, you beggar.
Bill (turning up his trousers). I ain't no beggar, sir. Shine for a shiner's fair play.
Wat. Do you live in this neighbourhood?
Bill. No, sir.
Wat. Where, then?
Bill (feeling where a pocket should be). I don't appear to 'ave a card about me, sir, but my address is Lamb's Court, Camomile Street—leastways I do my sleepin' not far off of it. I've lived there, what livin' I have done, sin' ever I wor anywheres as I knows on.
Wat. Do you happen to know a girl of the name of Pearson?
Bill. No, sir. I can't say as how I rec'lect the name. Is she a old girl or a young un?
Wat. You young liar! I saw you talking to her not two hours ago!