MRS MCELLIGOT: Well, you may talk about kipping down, but be god there won't be much sleep for my poor ole bloody bones tonight. I can't skipper it now de way me and Michael used too.
CHARLIE: Not jam. Gets cheese, though, twice a week.
THE KIKE: Oh Jeez! I can't stand it no longer. I going down to the M.A.B.
[Dorothy stands up, and then, her knees having stiffened with the cold, almost falls.]
GINGER: Only send you to the bleeding Labour Home. What you say we all go up to Covent Garden tomorrow morning? Bum a few pears if we get there early enough.
CHARLIE: I've my perishing bellyful of Dartmoor, believe me.
Forty on us went through 'ell for getting off with the ole women down on the allotments. Ole trots seventy years old they was, spud-grabbers. Didn't we cop it just! Bread and w
