according to the same tip,

"Ever hear from 'Kipper'?" she says to me.

"I have had one or two letters from him, your ladyship," I answers.

"Oh, stow that," she says. "I am sick of 'your ladyship.' Talk English;
I don't hear much of it. How's he getting on?"

"Seems to be doing himself well," I says. "He's started an hotel, and is
regular raking it in, he tells me."

"Wish I was behind the bar with him!" says she.

"Why, don't it work then?" I asks.

"It's just like a funeral with the corpse left out," says she. "Serves
me jolly well right for being a fool!"

The Marquis, he comes back with her cloak at that moment, and I says:
"Certainement, madame," and gets clear.

I often used to see her there, and when a chance occurred she would talk
to me. It seemed to be a relief to her to use her own tongue, but it
made me nervous at times for fear someone would hear her.

Then one day I got a letter from "Kipper" to say he was over for a
holiday and was stopping at Morley's, and asking me to look him up.

He had not changed much except to get a bit fatter and more prosperous-