She. He gave it me, on Wednesday our wedding-day, you know.
He. The Deuce He did! He’s growing generous in his old age. D’you like all that frilly, bunchy stuff at the throat? I don’t.
She. Don’t you?
Kind Sir, o’ your courtesy,
As you go by the town, Sir,
‘Pray you o’ your love for me,
Buy me a russet gown, Sir.
He. I won’t say: ‘Keek into the draw-well, Janet, Janet.’ Only wait a little, darling, and you shall be stocked with russet gowns and everything else.
She. And when the frocks wear out you’ll get me new ones and everything else?
He. Assuredly.
She. I wonder!
He. Look here, Sweetheart, I didn’t spend two days and two nights in the train to hear you wonder. I thought we’d settled all that at Shaifazehat.
She. (dreamily). At Shaifazehat? Does the Station go on still? That was ages and ages ago. It must be crumbling to pieces. All except the Amirtollah kutcha road. I don’t believe that could crumble till the Day of Judgment.