“My 'usband. You've gone and stole my 'us-band away! But I'll have the law on yer! I'll make it blooming hot for yer!” (Only “blooming” was not the adjective she employed.)
“Who are you, and what do you want?” said Fisher.
There was something so ponderous in his accents that our visitor was impressed in spite of herself.
“My name is Mrs. Fulcher, and I wants my 'usband. Them there lydies wot's come 'ere to mike mischief in the 'omcs of pore, hinnercent wiminen, they've give Mrs. Martin the money to do it.”
“To do what?” said Fisher.
“To go for a 'oliday to the seaside, and she's took my 'usband with her!”
“Taken your husband!” I exclaimed. “Why should she do that?”
“Because she ain't got no 'usband of her own, and never 'ad. Missis Martin, indeed! Needin' a 'oliday for 'er 'ealth! That's wot yer calls helevatin' wimmen! 'Elpin' himmorality, I calls it!”
“This is a nice business, young man!” said Fisher, turning to me.
Unfortunately for himself he had the ill-taste to smile at this triumph over his ex-burglar.