Harold Brighouse

“ Polly (mimicking) . Good-noight, mother! Is that all yer've got ter say?
Liza. Yus. As far as I know.
Polly. Well, if yer keep yer mouth shut the likes o' that when yer wed, Teddy 'ull be in clover. Wot? Oh, I see. Took yer charnce with 'im while I got beer, did yer? Righto. Sling yer 'ook. (Liza goes out l. under protest.) Now then, Mr. Dawson, we can be comfortable.
Teddy. 'Ere, where's Mr. Bettesworth?
Polly (assuming during the ensuing scene an air of rollicking camaraderie) . 'E's all right. Out lookin' for somebody, only 'e ain't lookin' in right place. ”

“ Liza didn't never 'ave much ter say for 'erself out in street.
Polly (winking elaborately at him) . That's 'er artfulness. Trust a girl to be careful when she's got 'er eye on a man.
Teddy (moving towards door) . I think I'll go 'ome. Yer've give me a lot to think abart.
Polly. I tell you wot, Mr. Dawson, yer slip in fur yer dinner on Sunday. Liza shall cook yer somethin'. She ain't much good at cookin' but you'll enjoy it whatever it's loike when she's cooked it. Me an' the old man 'ull 'ave a walk round Park afterwards an' yer can 'ave the 'ouse to yerself with Liza. ”

“ It's not come yet by years. Yer taken by 'is looks an' 'is bold ways. It ain't looks as make a man. This 'un's one of them sort as bring woe to a girl wot's fool enough to wed 'em. 'E's your fust, but yer not 'is fust, not by many a one.
Liza (indignantly) . 'E says I am.
Polly. Hark to that now. Creditin' anything a feller tells yer when 'e's lurin' yer to 'is arms. (The whistle pipes l. Liza hears it and jerks up her head. Polly fails to notice it.) Eh, not that I blame yer so much, yer too young to know different. P'raps yer'd best go to yer bed, as yer father said, an' ave yer cry out. ”

“ Polly. My word, Liza, yer do make yerself smart for evenin's. Yer might be courtin' the way yer've decked yerself.
Liza. There's no 'arm in puttin' on a bit of finery, is there, mother? If yer've got things, yer might as well show 'em. Don't do 'em no good to lie by in a drawer.
Polly. Be careful, girl. Yer'll 'ave some fellow takin' a fancy to yer if yer go down the Mile End Road in that gear. Foine feathers don't make foine birds. (Liza tosses her head.)
Andrew. Birds! Yus. Puts me in moind of that crazed canary wot comes rahnd the 'ouse whistlin' of an evenin'. ”

“ I've bin thinkin' as that's not right road o' dealin' with 'im.
Andrew. Right or wrong, 'e'll feel the weight of my belt with my arm behind it when I catch 'im.
Polly. I'll tell yer wot I'm thinkin. Yer leathered the fellers wot came after Martha an' Sally, but it didn't choke 'em orf. Made 'em all the keener. Made 'em think the girls was jewels, or yer'd not make so much fuss abart lettin' go of 'em. Let this feller think the girl's a wrong 'un an' 'e'll cool orf quick enough.
Andrew. Well, so they are jewels, an' Liza's the best of the bunch. ”