The bystander.  It’s all right:  he’s a gentleman:  look at his boots. [Explaining to the note taker] She thought you was a copper’s nark, sir.

The note taker [with quick interest] What’s a copper’s nark?

The bystander [inept at definition] It’s a—­well, it’s a copper’s nark, as you might say.  What else would you call it?  A sort of informer.

The flower girl [still hysterical] I take my Bible oath I never said a word—­

The note taker [overbearing but good-humored] Oh, shut up, shut up.  Do I look like a policeman?

The flower girl [far from reassured] Then what did you take down my words for?  How do I know whether you took me down right?  You just show me what you’ve wrote about me. [The note taker opens his book and holds it steadily under her nose, though the pressure of the mob trying to read it over his shoulders would upset a weaker man].  What’s that?  That ain’t proper writing.  I can’t read that.

The note taker.  I can. [Reads, reproducing her pronunciation exactly] “Cheer ap, Keptin; n’ haw ya flahr orf a pore gel.”

The flower girl [much distressed] It’s because I called him Captain.  I meant no harm. [To the gentleman] Oh, sir, don’t let him lay a charge agen me for a word like that.  You—­

The gentleman.  Charge!  I make no charge. [To the note taker] Really, sir, if you are a detective, you need not begin protecting me against molestation by young women until I ask you.  Anybody could see that the girl meant no harm.

The bystanders generally [demonstrating against police espionage] Course they could.  What business is it of yours?  You mind your own affairs.  He wants promotion, he does.  Taking down people’s words!  Girl never said a word to him.  What harm if she did?  Nice thing a girl can’t shelter from the rain without being insulted, etc., etc., etc. [She is conducted by the more sympathetic demonstrators back to her plinth, where she resumes her seat and struggles with her emotion].

The bystander.  He ain’t a tec.  He’s a blooming busybody:  that’s what he is.  I tell you, look at his boots.

The note taker [turning on him genially] And how are all your people down at Selsey?

The bystander [suspiciously] Who told you my people come from Selsey?

The note taker.  Never you mind.  They did. [To the girl] How do you come to be up so far east?  You were born in Lisson Grove.

The flower girl [appalled] Oh, what harm is there in my leaving Lisson Grove?  It wasn’t fit for a pig to live in; and I had to pay four-and-six a week. [In tears] Oh, boo—­hoo—­oo—­

The note taker.  Live where you like; but stop that noise.