'
'I am sorry for it, John,' said Dot in a great bustle,
'but I really could not think of going to Bertha's --
I would not do it, John, on any account -- without the
Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of
Beer. Way!'
This monosyllable was addressed to the horse, who
didn't mind it at all.
'Oh do way, John!' said Mrs. Peerybingle. 'Please!'
'It'll be time enough to do that,' returned John,
'when I begin to leave things behind me. The basket's
here, safe enough.'
'What a hard-hearted monster you must be, John,
not to have said so, at once, and save me such a
turn! I declared I wouldn't go to Bertha's without
the Veal and Ham-Pie and things, and the bottles of
Beer, for any money. Regularly once a fortnight ever
since we have been married, John, have we made our
little Pic-Nic there. If anything was to go wrong
with it, I should almost think we were never to be
lucky again.'
'It was a kind thought in the first instance,' said
the Carrier: 'and I honour you for it, little woman.'
'My dear John,' replied Dot, turning very red,
'Don't talk about honouring me.
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