Page:The Works of H G Wells Volume 8.djvu/437

 it, any'ow. They won't know you—not in your Bond Street 'at! If they do, they won't say nothing."

His voice assumed a note of entreaty. "You mus', Ann."

"I can't."

"You mus'."

"I can't and I won't. Anything in reason I'll do, but face those people again I can't—after what 'as 'appened."

"You won't?"

"No!"

"So there they go—orf! And we never see them again! And so it goes on! So it goes on! We don't know nobody and we shan't know anybody! And you won't put yourself out not a little bit, or take the trouble to find out anything 'ow it ought to be done."

Terrible pause.

"I never ought to 'ave merried you, Artie, that's the troof."

"Oh! don't go into that."

"I never ought to 'ave merried you, Artie. I'm not equal to the position. If you 'adn't said you'd drown yourself—" She choked.

"I don' see why you shouldn't try, Ann. I've improved. Why don't you? 'Stead of which you go sending out the servant and 'namelling floors, and then when visitors come"

Ow was I to know about y'r old visitors?" cried Ann in a wail, and suddenly got up and fled from amidst their ruined tea, the tea of which "toce, all buttery," was to be the crown and glory.