'No.'

'Sudden like the idea came to me to pretend I had a son.'

'You depraved old limmer! But what in the name of Old Nick made you
choose me out of the whole British Army?'

Mrs. Dowey giggles. There is little doubt that in her youth she was an
accomplished flirt. 'Maybe, mister, it was because I liked you best.'

'Now, now, woman.'

'I read one day in the papers, "In which, he was assisted by Private K.
Dowey, 5th Battalion, Black Watch."'

Private K. Dowey is flattered, 'Did you, now! Well, I expect that's the
only time I was ever in the papers.'

Mrs. Dowey tries it on again, 'I didn't choose you for that alone. I
read a history of the Black Watch first, to make sure it was the best
regiment in the world.'

'Anybody could have told you that.' He is moving about now in better
humour, and, meeting the loaf in his stride, he cuts a slice from it. He
is hardly aware of this, but Mrs. Dowey knows. 'I like the Scotch voice
of you, woman. It drummles on like a hill burn.'

'Prosen Water runs by where I was born.' Flirting again, 'May be it
teached me to speak, mister.'