]
Right you are, ole comride! 'E said breakfast, an' breakfast it
shall be, I don't fink! Blimey! Sossingers! Ain't 'ad the taste
of sossingers in my gizzard for I don't know 'ow long!
[He sits and devours whilst MANSON breaks and hands him bread,
waiting upon him.]
[Between bites.] Wouldn't think as I was 'is brother, would
yer--not to look at me? But strooth, _I am_; an' wot's more, 'e
cawn't deny it! . . . [He labours with a little joke.] There's a
lot o' brothers knockin' abaht as people don't know on, eh what?
See wot I mean? [Suddenly serious.] Not as I'm one o' them sort,
mind yer: my father married my mother honest, same as I married my
little . . .
[After a moment's reflection, he makes fresh onslaught upon the
sausages. Presently he looks up.]
'Ere, ain't you goin' ter 'av' none? . . . Cawn't yer speak?
MANSON. Yes.
ROBERT. Well, why cawn't yer arnser a bloke when 'e arsks yer
civil?
MANSON. You didn't make it dear that you wanted to eat with me.
ROBERT. Want a bit of 'eart in it, eh?
MANSON.
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