The mother [advancing between her daughter and the note taker] How very curious!  I was brought up in Largelady Park, near Epsom.

The note taker [uproariously amused] Ha! ha!  What a devil of a name!  Excuse me. [To the daughter] You want a cab, do you?

The daughter.  Don’t dare speak to me.

The mother.  Oh, please, please Clara. [Her daughter repudiates her with an angry shrug and retires haughtily.] We should be so grateful to you, sir, if you found us a cab. [The note taker produces a whistle].  Oh, thank you. [She joins her daughter].  The note taker blows a piercing blast.

The sarcastic bystander.  There!  I knowed he was a plain-clothes copper.

The bystander.  That ain’t a police whistle:  that’s a sporting whistle.

The flower girl [still preoccupied with her wounded feelings] He’s no right to take away my character.  My character is the same to me as any lady’s.

The note taker.  I don’t know whether you’ve noticed it; but the rain stopped about two minutes ago.

The bystander.  So it has.  Why didn’t you say so before? and us losing our time listening to your silliness. [He walks off towards the Strand].

The sarcastic bystander.  I can tell where you come from.  You come from Anwell.  Go back there.

The note taker [helpfully] Hanwell.

The sarcastic bystander [affecting great distinction of speech] Thenk you, teacher.  Haw haw!  So long [he touches his hat with mock respect and strolls off].

The flower girl.  Frightening people like that!  How would he like it himself.

The mother.  It’s quite fine now, Clara.  We can walk to a motor bus.  Come. [She gathers her skirts above her ankles and hurries off towards the Strand].

The daughter.  But the cab—­[her mother is out of hearing].  Oh, how tiresome! [She follows angrily].

All the rest have gone except the note taker, the gentleman, and the flower girl, who sits arranging her basket, and still pitying herself in murmurs.

The flower girl.  Poor girl!  Hard enough for her to live without being worrited and chivied.

The gentleman [returning to his former place on the note taker’s left] How do you do it, if I may ask?

The note taker.  Simply phonetics.  The science of speech.  That’s my profession; also my hobby.  Happy is the man who can make a living by his hobby!  You can spot an Irishman or a Yorkshireman by his brogue.  I can place any man within six miles.  I can place him within two miles in London.  Sometimes within two streets.

The flower girl.  Ought to be ashamed of himself, unmanly coward!