Teddy. I don't know as I can come.
Polly (as if deeply disappointed). Yer a bit slow to my way of thinkin'. I'm doin' my best fur yer.
Teddy. Yus. That's just it.
Polly. Just what?
Teddy. Yer a fat sight too keen to be rid of the girl if yer want it straight.
Polly. Don't say that. I'm only tryin' to 'elp yer.
Teddy. Yer didn't 'elp blokes wot come after yer other girls only with yer old man's strap.
Polly. Oh, but yer a very different sort to them, Mr. Dawson.
Teddy. That's right enough. (Door l. opens softly and Liza peeps in. She leaves door ajar without entering.)
Polly. Then we'll expect yer o' Sunday?