“Ah, yes. On my seventeenth birthday, and was left a widow in exactly two years’ time. Your poor dear granf—”
“Thank you, grannie, thank you! Seven!”
“Seven what, Hennessey? One would th—”
“And now, dear grannie, tell me one thing, only one little thing more. About—that is, talking of rashes—”
“Rashers!”
“No, grannie, rashes—illnesses, you know, that take an epidemic form.”
“Well, what about them? Surely there isn’t an epidemic in the square?”
“How many have you had, grannie?”
“Where? Had what?”
“Here, anywhere in the square, grannie.”