LEMMY. [Raising his mug] Well, 'ere's to the British revolution! 'Ere's to the conflygrytion in the sky!
MRS. L. [Comfortably] So as to kape up therr, 'twon't du no 'arm.
LEMMY goes to the window and unhooks his fiddle; he stands with it halfway to his shoulder. Suddenly he opens the window and leans out. A confused murmur of voices is heard; and a snatch of the Marseillaise, sung by a girl. Then the shuffling tramp of feet, and figures are passing in the street.
LEMMY. [Turning—excited] Wot'd I tell yer, old lydy? There it is —there it is!
MRS. L. [Placidly] What is?
LEMMY. The revolution. [He cranes out] They've got it on a barrer. Cheerio!
VOICE. [Answering] Cheerio!
LEMMY. [Leaning out] I sy—you 'yn't tykin' the body, are yer?
VOICE. Nao.
LEMMY. Did she die o' starvytion O.K.?