Act I - Page 2

knocking her basket out of her hands. A blinding flash of lightning, followed instantly by a rattling peal of thunder, orchestrates the incident].

THE FLOWER GIRL
Nah then, Freddy: look wh' y' gowin, deah.

FREDDY
Sorry [he rushes off].

THE FLOWER GIRL
[picking up her scattered flowers and replacing them in the basket] Theres menners f' yer! Te-oo banches o voylets trod into the mad. [She sits down on the plinth of the column, sorting her flowers, on the lady's right. She is not at all an attractive person. She is perhaps eighteen, perhaps twenty, hardly older. She wears a little sailor hat of black straw that has long been exposed to the dust and soot of London and has seldom if ever been brushed. Her hair needs washing rather badly: its mousy color can hardly be natural. She wears a shoddy black coat that reaches nearly to her knees and is shaped to her waist. She has a brown skirt with a coarse apron. Her boots are much the worse for wear. She is no doubt as clean as she can afford to be; but compared to the ladies she is very dirty. Her features are no worse than theirs; but their condition leaves something to be desired; and she needs the services of a dentist].

THE MOTHER
How do you know that my son's name is Freddy, pray?

THE FLOWER GIRL
Ow, eez ye-ooa san, is e? Wal, fewd dan y' de-ooty bawmz a mather should, eed now bettern to spawl a pore gel's flahrzn than ran awy athaht pyin. Will ye-oo py me f'them? [Here, with apologies, this desperate attempt to represent her dialect without a phonetic alphabet must be abandoned as unintelligible outside London.]

THE DAUGHTER
Do nothing of the sort, mother. The idea!

THE MOTHER
Please allow me, Clara. Have you any pennies?

THE DAUGHTER
No. I've nothing smaller than sixpence.

THE FLOWER GIRL
[hopefully] I can give you change for a tanner, kind lady.

THE MOTHER
[to Clara] Give it to me. [Clara parts reluctantly]. Now [to the girl] This is for your flowers.

THE FLOWER GIRL
Thank you kindly, lady.

THE DAUGHTER
Make her give you the change. These things are only a penny a bunch.

THE MOTHER
Do hold your tongue, Clara. [To the girl]. You can keep the change.

THE FLOWER GIRL
Oh, thank you, lady.

THE MOTHER
Now tell me how you know that young gentleman's name.

THE FLOWER GIRL
I didnt.

THE MOTHER
I heard you call him by it. Dont try to deceive me.

THE FLOWER GIRL
[protesting] Whos trying to deceive you? I called him Freddy or Charlie same as you might yourself if you was talking to a stranger and wished to be pleasant. [She sits down beside her basket].

THE DAUGHTER
Sixpence thrown away! Really, mamma, you might have spared Freddy that. [She retreats in disgust behind the pillar].