"Ey ukhnyem! Ey ukhnyem!
Yeshtsho razik, yeshtsho da ras!" sang the boatman, in a vulgar manner.

"69?" he inquired, oddly. "£50!" she responded, evenly.

"Dear Miss", he began, mysteriously.

"I've been in this back street since January, and it's nearly Easter", he said terminally.