"'Didn't you send 'er a telegram?' I asks.
"'Telegram!' says 'e, 'not 'arf.'
"'Why not?'
"'Lord! ain't you a mug, Joe!' says 'e; 'you don't catch me a-trustin' women, I got my own way, I 'ave,' says 'e, mysterious like.
"'What is it?' I asks 'im.
"'Well, I goes 'ome,' says 'e, ''er thinkin' me at the front, rattles my key in the front door, then I nips round to the back, an' catches the blighter every time!'"
"I won't listen to your disgusting stories," said Mrs. Bindle angrily.
"Disgustin'?" said Bindle incredulously.
"You've a lewd mind, Bindle."
"Well, well!" remarked Bindle, "it's somethink to 'ave a mind at all, it's about the only thing they don't tax as war profits."