Mrs Ellis made tea in the kitchen. Mavis, wanting air, opened the
window, although she remembered her landlady's liking for having
this particular one shut. No sooner had she done so, than she heard
a woman's voice raised in raucous anger, the while it made use of
much bad language. It abused certain people for not having done
their work. The bad language getting more forceful than before,
Mavis moved from the window. Presently, the voice stopped. Soon
after, Mrs Ellis, looking red and flustered, came into the room.
When she saw that Mavis had opened the window, she became redder in
the face, as she said:

"I'm sorry, miss; I couldn't help it."

"Help what?" asked Mavis.

"Talking to the men as I did. I always wanted the window down, so
you shouldn't hear."

"It was you, then?"

"Didn't you know, miss?"

"Not altogether. It was something like your voice."

"If I were to talk to them ordinary, they wouldn't listen; so I've
to talk to them in my 'usband's language, which is all they
understand," said Mrs Ellis apologetically.

The contrast between Mrs Ellis's neat, unassuming respectability and
her language to the men made Mavis smile.