Nora: I think he *has* changed, Mrs Priddle - In fact I'm sure he has.
Mrs. Priddle: Well, I hope so, dear, if only for your sake. Some of the stories I've heard about him - well, I wouldn't have him if his backside hung in diamonds.
Nora: Oh, Tosh is not as bad as they make out.
Mrs. Priddle: Yeah, but you're a good-looking woman in your own right, you are. You ought to have someone who lavishes love upon you.
[She takes cup of tea]
Mrs. Priddle: Oh ta; couldn't half do with this.
Nora: Well, nobody's perfect, are they?
Mrs. Priddle: Perfect? The way he treats you, he's a perfect basket. Still, I suppose there's some good in him somewhere or you wouldn't put up with him.
Nora: Well he always turns up when his ship's in. And he brings me money sometimes, and presents. If you fall for a man like Tosh it's about all you can hope for.
Mrs. Priddle: Why, that's the worst of us women: we're too soft. It was the same with Priddle. He could twist me round his little finger, he could. Ooh, that Priddle had a way with him, he did. He only had to smile at me at me with his eyes and I'd go wobbly all over.
Nora: I suppose you still miss him, don't you?
Mrs. Priddle: Not half. If only he'd come back from wherever he hopped it to, I'd have him back like a shot. Do you know, he could belt me round the mouth one minute, and the next minute I'd be cuddled up to him in a throbbing mess of love and desire for the bleeder.