human
I've talked with such fellers in the trenches, Mother. You be sure of this: they ain't going back to slavery.
gpt
Slavery, Alfred, in England!
human
There are slaves in Ocknell, to-day, Mother. Some pore devils had to be 'fetched.' They didn't know enough to get out of their hog-wallows. 'Tis rank slavery for a man to bring up wife and six little 'uns on fifteen bob a week.
gpt
Anyways, replied Mrs. Yellam, tartly,
human
I don't hold wi' fur coats on the backs o' hussies whose mothers can't afford decent underlinen. And that minds me o' the advertisements in my paper. I fair blush to look at 'un. Pictures o' garments that I hangs up to dry out o' sight in my back yard.
gpt
It always seemed to me as if you women hid the things you were ashamed of. The pretty frillies flutter in the wind, where all can see 'em, and envy 'em. Nether-Applewhite knew when Rose Mucklow took to nighties trimmed with real Val.