Polly (firmly). Yer'll not touch the girl. Andrew.
Andrew. Who won't?
Polly. I'll give 'er a piece of my mind.
Andrew. An' I'll give 'er a piece of my belt.
Polly. Yer won't. Me an' yer didn't arsk our old 'uns for leave to start courtin'. Liza ull go the way o' all flesh when 'er time comes.
Andrew. Yus, but 'er time ain't come yet, not by a bloomin' long chalk, an' I'll make 'er know it.
Polly. Yer leave Liza to me. Yer can do wot yer loike with Teddy Dawson an' welcome.
Andrew. I'll make 'im wish 'e'd never bin born.
Polly. I dunno. Yer've tried that road twice—with Martha's man an' Sally's.
Andrew (reminiscently, gloating). I did an' all. They didn't 'ave much of a larky toime courtin'. I put strap abart both of 'em more than once.