Snort, snuffle, hack, atchoo. Hack, hack, hack, snuffle, ATCHOO.
The sounds of Granny in London. She has THE COLD in other words - along with practically everybody else she meets/has met. She is feeling sorry for herself. Serves her right for not staying at home on her island with her Beloved and his goats, he implies - but doesn't say. He does say that the pregnant goat shows no sign yet of giving birth, and that the bantams are getting at Granny's nasturtiums. Damn. But it all seems a very long way away. From within her headful of catarrh even London seems very far away. Snort, hack, snuffle. Etc.
Even though she is NOT going outside, Granny may or may not be gone a long time. See you all later.