but my friend, she wait outside the churchyard, by-side the leetle river,
for she must not think I know you--so I am come _a_lon.'

'You're a quarter late, and I lost a fight by you, old girl, this morning,'
said the gay man, and spat on the ground; 'and I wish you would not call me
Diddle. I'll call you Granny if you do.'

'Eh bien! _Dud,_ then. She is vary nice--wat you like. Slim waist, wite
teeth, vary nice eyes--dark--wat you say is best--and nice leetle foot and
ankle.'

Madame smiled leeringly.

Dud smoked on.

'Go on,' said Dud, with a nod of command.

'I am teach her to sing and play--she has such sweet voice!

There was another interval here.

'Well, that isn't much good. I hate women's screechin' about fairies and
flowers. Hang her! there's a scarecrow as sings at Curl's Divan. Such a
caterwauling upon a stage! I'd like to put my two barrels into her.'

By this time Dud's pipe was out, and he could afford to converse.

'You shall see her and decide. You will walk down the river, and pass her
by.'