MRS. L. Aw! Yu don' never get no change, not in my profession. [She oscillates the trousers] I've a-been in trousers fifteen year; ever since I got to old for laundry. PRESS. [Writing] "For fifteen years sewn trousers." What would a good week be, Mrs. Lemmy? MRS. L. 'Tes a very gude week, five shellin's. LEMMY. [From the window] Bloomin' millionairess, Muvver. She's lookin' forward to 'eaven, where vey don't wear no trahsers. MRS. L. [With spirit] 'Tidn for me to zay whether they du. An' 'tes on'y when I'm a bit low-sperrity-like as I wants to go therr. What I am a-lukin' forward to, though, 'tes a day in the country. I've not a-had one since before the war. A kind lady brought me in that bit of 'eather; 'tes wonderful sweet stuff when the 'oney's in et. When I was a little gell I used to zet in the 'eather gatherin' the whorts, an' me little mouth all black wi' eatin' them. 'Twas in the 'eather I used to zet, Sundays, courtin'. All flesh is grass-- an' 'tesn't no bad thing--grass. PRESS. [Writing] "The old paganism of the country." What is your view of life, Mrs. Lemmy? LEMMY. [Suddenly] Wot is 'er voo of life? Shall I tell yer mine? Life's a disease--a blinkin' oak-apple! Daon't myke no mistyke. An' 'umen life's a yumourous disease; that's all the difference. Why-- wot else can it be? See the bloomin' promise an' the blighted performance--different as a 'eadline to the noos inside. But yer couldn't myke Muvver see vat--not if yer talked to 'er for a wok. Muvver still believes in fings. She's a country gell; at a 'undred and fifty she'll be a country gell, won't yer, old lydy? MRS. L. Well, 'tesn't never been 'ome to me in London. I lived in the country forty year--I did my lovin' there; I burried father therr. Therr bain't nothin' in life, yu know, but a bit o' lovin'-- all said an' done; bit o' lovin', with the wind, an' the stars out. LEMMY. [In a loud apologetic whisper] She 'yn't often like this. I told yer she'd got a glawss o' port in 'er. MRS. L. 'Tes a brave pleasure, is lovin'. I likes to zee et in young folk. I likes to zee 'em kissin'; shows the 'eart in 'em. 'Tes the 'eart makes the world go round; 'tesn't nothin' else, in my opinion. PRESS. [Writing] "--sings the swan song of the heart."---- MRS. L. [Overhearing] No, I never yeard a swan sing--never! But I tell 'ee what I 'eve 'eard; the Bells singin' in th' orchard 'angin' up the clothes to dry, an' the cuckoos callin' back to 'em. [Smiling] There's a-many songs in the country-the 'eart is freelike in th' country! LEMMY. [Soto voce] Gi' me the Strand at ar' past nine. PRESS. [Writing] "Town and country----" MRS. L. 'Tidn't like that in London; one day's jest like another. Not but what therr's a 'eap o' kind'eartedness 'ere. LEMMY. [Gloomily] Kind-'eartedness! I daon't fink "Boys an' Gells come out to play." [He plays the old tune on his fiddle.]