Farmer Sweetland:
Well you don't want to marry a boy, do you?
Mary Hearn, Postmistress:
Why not? 'Tis a way with girls to marry boys, isn't it?
Farmer Sweetland:
Have you got the face to call yourself a *girl*?
Mary Hearn, Postmistress:
What the mischief should I call myself, then?
Farmer Sweetland:
*Full blown and a a bit over*... that's what I call you! The trouble with you is, you are too fond of dressing your mutton lamb fashion.
Mary Hearn, Postmistress:
Is this a nightmare?
Farmer Sweetland:
Your hat is!
Mary Hearn, Postmistress:
You old sheep... to come to a woman in all her prime and beauty.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:08
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