"No," ses the gal, shaking her 'ead, "I've enjoyed myself very much."
"I thought you seemed a bit tired," ses Ginger, arter waiting a long time.
"I'm not tired," ses the gal, giving 'im a sad sort o' little smile, "but I'm a little bit worried, that's all."
"Worried?" ses Ginger, very tender. "Wot's worrying you?"
"Oh, I can't tell you," ses Miss Gill. "It doesn't matter; I'll try and cheer up. Wot a lovely day it is, isn't it? I shall remember it all my life."
"Wot is it worrying you?" ses Ginger, in a determined voice. "Can't you tell me?"
"No," ses the gal, shaking her 'ead, "I can't tell you because you might want to 'elp me, and I couldn't allow that."
"Why shouldn't I 'elp you?" ses Ginger. "It's wot we was put 'ere for: to 'elp one another."
"I couldn't tell you," ses the gal, just dabbing at'er eyes—with a lace pocket-'ankercher about one and a 'arf times the size of 'er nose.
"Not if I ask you to?" ses Ginger.