16th February, morning
Woke to the sounds of the early morning deliveries heading for the docks some blocks away. Horse-drawn carts carrying goods to and from ships waiting patiently at their moorings. I also awoke to the raucous voice of Mrs Gwarne yelling at the cook: "This mait es gone pindy an' the turmots es gone pluffy!" which made me thankful that I would not be staying much past breakfast. "Put oal the scroff in the pig's bucket", sailed through my open window and turned my thoughts to perhaps that a light, liquid breakfast may suffice. "Come on, you gate slocum, do ee git on weth the job 'sted uv frickin' 'round!"
A calmer voice retorted: "Do ee stop yer tongueing, wumman. Ee jes' some stodgy but ee make a fitty job uv et."
