WELLWYN. I see. And when he's not flying it, what does he do?
MRS. MEGAN. [Touching her basket.] Same as me. Other jobs tires 'im.
WELLWYN. That's very nice! [He checks himself.] Well, what am I to do with you?
MRS. MEGAN. Of course, I could get me night's lodging if I like to do—the same as some of them.
WELLWYN. No! no! Never, my child! Never!
MRS. MEGAN. It's easy that way.
WELLWYN. Heavens! But your husband! Um?
MRS. MEGAN. [With stoical vindictiveness.] He's after one I know of.
WELLWYN. Tt! What a pickle!
MRS. MEGAN. I'll 'ave to walk about the streets.