Father: Now I understand that you want to marry my daughter?
Shabby: [sniffing and coughing.] That's right ... Yeah... Yeah...
Father: Yes, you realize of course that Rosaround is still rather young?
Rosamund: Daddy you make me feel like a child. [she gazes at Shabby fondly.]
Shabby: [lasciviously.] Oh yeah ... You know... Get 'em when they're young eh... Eh! OOOOH! Know what I mean eh, oooh! [makes obscene gesture involving elbow.]
Father: Well I'm sure you know what I mean, Mr ... Er... Mr... Er . Er?
Shabby: Shabby... Ken Shabby...
Father: Mr Shabby... I just want to make sure that you'll be able to look after my daughter...
Shabby: Oh yeah, yeah. I'll be able to look after 'er all right sport, eh, know what I mean, eh emggh!
Father: And, er, what job do you do?
Shabby: I clean out public lavatories.
Father: Is there promotion involved?
Shabby: Oh yeah, yeah. [produces handkerchief and clean throat horribly into it.] After five years they give me a brush.