She's been threatenin' fer months to git married, but it 'urts 'er to give up a good billet an' live on three pounds a week.

Yer'd do the bloke a kindness, if yer made me give 'er the sack." "It's no use.

My mother wouldn't listen to it.

For years she's half starved herself to keep me out of a shop.

She can never forget that her people in England are gentry." "I don't know much about gentry, but I could teach them an' yer mother some common sense," said Jonah.
"We won't discuss my mother, if you please," said Clara, and they both fell silent.
They had reached the end of Cremorne Point, a spur of rock running into the harbour.