"There is no such word as 'ain't,'" she said, prettily emphatic.

Martin flushed again.

"And you say 'ben' for 'been,'" she continued; "'come' for 'came'; and
the way you chop your endings is something dreadful."

"How do you mean?" He leaned forward, feeling that he ought to get down
on his knees before so marvellous a mind. "How do I chop?"

"You don't complete the endings. 'A-n-d' spells 'and.' You pronounce it
'an'.' 'I-n-g' spells 'ing.' Sometimes you pronounce it 'ing' and
sometimes you leave off the 'g.' And then you slur by dropping initial
letters and diphthongs. 'T-h-e-m' spells 'them.' You pronounce it--oh,
well, it is not necessary to go over all of them. What you need is the
grammar. I'll get one and show you how to begin."

As she arose, there shot through his mind something that he had read in
the etiquette books, and he stood up awkwardly, worrying as to whether he
was doing the right thing, and fearing that she might take it as a sign
that he was about to go.

"By the way, Mr. Eden," she called back, as she was leaving the room.
"What is _booze_? You used it several times, you know."

"Oh, booze," he laughed. "It's slang. It means whiskey an'
beer--anything that will make you drunk."

"And another thing," she laughed back. "Don't use 'you' when you are