by his brogue. I can place any man within six miles. I can place
him within two miles in London. Sometimes within two streets.

THE FLOWER GIRL. Ought to be ashamed of himself, unmanly coward!

THE GENTLEMAN. But is there a living in that?

THE NOTE TAKER. Oh yes. Quite a fat one. This is an age of
upstarts. Men begin in Kentish Town with 80 pounds a year, and
end in Park Lane with a hundred thousand. They want to drop
Kentish Town; but they give themselves away every time they open
their mouths. Now I can teach them--

THE FLOWER GIRL. Let him mind his own business and leave a poor
girl--

THE NOTE TAKER [explosively] Woman: cease this detestable
boohooing instantly; or else seek the shelter of some other place
of worship.

THE FLOWER GIRL [with feeble defiance] I've a right to be here if
I like, same as you.

THE NOTE TAKER. A woman who utters such depressing and disgusting
sounds has no right to be anywhere--no right to live. Remember
that you are a human being with a soul and the divine gift of
articulate speech: that your native language is the language of
Shakespear and Milton and The Bible; and don't sit there crooning
like a bilious pigeon.