“Hold hard, we agreed a guinea,” I protested. She deported herself on the chaise longue, then tried resting on the piano-forte with one leg raised before deciding upon bending forward over the aforesaid piano – forte. “Took her womb?” I queried. I need a husband!”
“Why me?” I asked. “Oh forget it,” the Nun sighed, “I thought if it was his Lordship he might do his duty and make me an offer.”
“How much were you asking,” I enquired, “Only I don’t generally go wenching before luncheon?”
“Marriage my Lord,” Carruthers explained. “A Nun Carruthers, A Nun?” I queried. “Hold hard, we agreed a guinea,” I protested. “What about Pinky Pinkerton’s do last autumn,” Mr Morley suggested, “When Carruthers skewered, ah.” He had said too much. “I mean desist you fool!” she countered, “What on earth has got into you?”
“I rather think his Lordship has got into her!” Carruthers explained. “Very funny Carruthers, bring a pail of water and subdue their ardour would you?” Mother suggested. “I fear it may damage the piano – forte,” Carruthers replied. “Because you are stupid and feckless and your mother thinks we would make an ideal team,” She explained. “Have a care mother, one can’t have people put down for fornicating,” I advised.
