"Wot's wrong wi' you an' me gittin' married, Ada?" he said. Ada nearly dropped her cup.
"Garn, ye're only kiddin'!" she cried with an uneasy grin.
"Fair dinkum!" said Jonah.
"Right-oh," said Ada, as calmly as if she were accepting an invitation to a dance.
But she thought with satisfaction that this was the beginning of a perpetual holiday. For she was incorrigibly lazy and hated work, going through the round of mechanical toil in a slovenly fashion, indifferent to the shower of complaints, threats and abuse that fell about her ears.
"Where was yer thinkin' of gittin' married, Joe?" inquired Mrs Yabsley after tea.
"I dunno," replied Jonah, suddenly remembering that he knew no more of weddings than a crow.
"At the Registry Office, of course," said Ada. "Yer walk in an' yer walk out, an' it's all over."
"That's the idea," said Jonah, greatly relieved. He understood vaguely that weddings were expensive affairs, and he had thirty shillings in his pocket.
"Don't tell me that people are married that goes ter the Registry Office!" cried Mrs Yabsley. "They only git a licence to 'ave a family. I know all about them. Yer sign a piece of paper, an' then the bloke tells yer ye're married. 'Ow does 'e know ye're married? 'E ain't a parson. I was married in a church, an' my marriage is as good now as ever it was. Just yous leave it to me, an' I'll fix yez up."