MR EDWARDS

Myfanwy Price!

        MISS PRICE

Mr Mog Edwards!

        MR EDWARDS

I am a draper mad with love. I love you more than all the
flannelette and calico, candlewick, dimity, crash and merino,
tussore, cretonne, crepon, muslin, poplin, ticking and twill
in the whole Cloth Hall of the world. I have come to take
you away to my Emporium on the hill, where the change hums
on wires. Throw away your little bedsocks and your Welsh
wool knitted jacket, I will warm the sheets like an electric
toaster, I will lie by your side like the Sunday roast.

        MISS PRICE

I will knit you a wallet of forget-me-not blue, for the
money, to be comfy. I will warm your heart by the fire so
that you can slip it in under your vest when the shop is
closed.

        MR EDWARDS

Myfanwy, Myfanwy, before the mice gnaw at your bottom drawer
will you say

        MISS PRICE

Yes, Mog, yes, Mog, yes, yes, yes.

        MR EDWARDS

And all the bells of the tills of the town shall ring for
our wedding.

              [Noise of money-tills and chapel bells]