So you suffered from complications, did you ?" "Internal," Tilda assured her in a voice as hollow as she could make it.
"I must have spit up a quart of blood, first an' last.

An' the medicine I 'ad to take! You wouldn' think it, but the colour was pale 'eliotrope." "I wonder," said Mrs.

Damper sympathetically--"I wonder it stayed in the stomach." "It didn'." "Wouldn' you fancy a glass o' milk, now ?" "It's very kind of you." Tilda put on her best manners.

"And 'ere's 'ealth!" she added before sipping, when the milk was handed to her.
"And the dog--wouldn' '_e_ like something ?" "Well, since you mention it--but it's givin' you a 'eap of trouble.

If you 'ave such a thing as a bun, it don't matter 'ow stale." "I can do better 'n that." Mrs.Damper dived into the inner room, and re-emerged with a plateful of scraps.