The gentleman.  Phew!

The mother [to the gentleman] Oh, sir, is there any sign of its stopping?

The gentleman.  I’m afraid not.  It started worse than ever about two minutes ago. [He goes to the plinth beside the flower girl; puts up his foot on it; and stoops to turn down his trouser ends].

The mother.  Oh, dear! [She retires sadly and joins her daughter].

The flower girl [taking advantage of the military gentleman’s proximity to establish friendly relations with him].  If it’s worse it’s a sign it’s nearly over.  So cheer up, Captain; and buy a flower off a poor girl.

The gentleman.  I’m sorry, I haven’t any change.

The flower girl.  I can give you change, Captain,

The gentlemen.  For a sovereign?  I’ve nothing less.

The flower girl.  Garn!  Oh do buy a flower off me, Captain.  I can change half-a-crown.  Take this for tuppence.

The gentleman.  Now don’t be troublesome:  there’s a good girl. [Trying his pockets] I really haven’t any change—­Stop:  here’s three hapence, if that’s any use to you [he retreats to the other pillar].

The flower girl [disappointed, but thinking three halfpence better than nothing] Thank you, sir.

The bystander [to the girl] You be careful:  give him a flower for it.  There’s a bloke here behind taking down every blessed word you’re saying. [All turn to the man who is taking notes].

The flower girl [springing up terrified] I ain’t done nothing wrong by speaking to the gentleman.  I’ve a right to sell flowers if I keep off the kerb. [Hysterically] I’m a respectable girl:  so help me, I never spoke to him except to ask him to buy a flower off me. [General hubbub, mostly sympathetic to the flower girl, but deprecating her excessive sensibility.  Cries of Don’t start hollerin.  Who’s hurting you?  Nobody’s going to touch you.  What’s the good of fussing?  Steady on.  Easy, easy, etc., come from the elderly staid spectators, who pat her comfortingly.  Less patient ones bid her shut her head, or ask her roughly what is wrong with her.  A remoter group, not knowing what the matter is, crowd in and increase the noise with question and answer:  What’s the row?  What she do?  Where is he?  A tec taking her down.  What! him?  Yes:  him over there:  Took money off the gentleman, etc.  The flower girl, distraught and mobbed, breaks through them to the gentleman, crying mildly] Oh, sir, don’t let him charge me.  You dunno what it means to me.  They’ll take away my character and drive me on the streets for speaking to gentlemen.  They—­

The note taker [coming forward on her right, the rest crowding after him] There, there, there, there!  Who’s hurting you, you silly girl?  What do you take me for?