_Mr. H._ What 'er? I don't know any 'er.

_Polly_ (_archly_). Oh, you think we 'aven't 'eard. 'Er where you live
now. _We_ know all about it!

_Mr. H._ Then you know more than what _I_ do. There's nothing between
me and anybody where _I_ live. But I'm going out to Ostralia, though.
I've saved up 'alf of what I want already.

_Polly_ (_banteringly_). You _are_ a good boy. Save up enough for _me_
too!

_Mr. H._ (_surveying her with frank disparagement_). _You_? Oh, lor!
Not if I know it!

_Flo_ (_with an exaggerated sigh_). Oh dear, I wish I was over there.
They say they're advertising for maidservants--fifteen shillings a
week, and the washing put out. I'd marry a prince or a lord duke,
perhaps, when I got there. ARTHUR sent me a fashion-book.

_Mr. H._ So he sent me one, too. It was the Autumn fashions. They get
their Autumn in the Spring out there, you know, and their Christmas
Day comes in the middle of July. Seems rum, doesn't it?

_Flo_. He sent me his photo, too. He _has_ improved.

_Polly_. You go out there, ERNIE, and p'raps _you_'ll improve. [_FLO
giggles._

_Mr. H._ (_hurt_). There, that's enough--good-bye.