‘That’s more than you know, you impertinent hussy! Take my message.’
‘Shan’t!’
With that the flap goes to with a bang.
The shabby gentleman is not in the least abashed. He takes the bell-handle calmly and proceeds to tug at it.
He continues tugging till the female face, hotter and angrier than ever, once more appears at the peephole.
‘If you don’t go away I shall send for the perlice.’
‘Will you take my message?’
‘No, master ain’t at home.’
‘Then why the devil didn’t you say so before?’
‘Cus I didn’t choose. P’raps you’d like to know where he is, and where he was borned, Mr. Impertinence; and how many times he’s been waksinated, and what he had for dinner o’ Sunday. Come, what is it? ’Ave you called to see the meter and help yourself to the hovercoats; or d’ye want to be shown in and see which is the heasiest way through the back window on sone futur’ ercashun?’