"Are you going to attend, sir? Well, then—There was once a young man——"
"Who met a small vixen called Nell, and she fell in love with him and made him marry her."
"Ah, now, Ted, do listen!—A young man, and his mother told him never to walk under a ladder."
"And he did, naughty youth, and a bricklayer fell on him, and he died?"
She pleaded with him. "Seriously, Ted; no nonsense!" So he grasped her by the elbows and looked gravely in her face.
"It was mother's cousin Harold—really and truly—not a make-up."
"Hurry up, darling. I'm swallowing every word, and it's most awfully interesting."
"And he didn't believe that kind of thing—just like you, you know—ladders, and crows, and petticoats, and things. And he was going out to the West Indies to an awfully good appointment—hundreds a year! And his mother went for a walk with him on the last day. And they were building a row of houses——"
"Cousin Harold and his mother?"
"No. You know. And his mother said, 'Don't go under the ladder, dear'—and he did."