“Go up t’your bedroom, will yeh, and get those scissors.”
“Here’s pair scissors here.”
“Yes, but ... I want th’other pair. The small ones in your room.”
“’Oo’s that in th’ouse?” snapped Old Joe, with pistol-shot explosion. “Someone’s in th’ouse. I can feel it!”
“Can’t Percy-boy go’mself?” prattled Fanny.
“No—too tired. You go—there’s a goo’ girl. Then I’ll buy you some chocolate biscuits.” He looked covertly to right and left.
“Awright. Fanny go. Cho-co-late biscuits!” she sang, to no tune.
“Fanny!” Old Joe bit off the words. “You stop ’ere!”
Perce slewed round. “Whaffor, old ’un? Why can’t she go?”
“’Cos I don’t want ’er to. Fanny—stop. Stop ’ere!”