Minnie.

JOE. [_Turning and staring haggardly at her._] I could have got clothes--a
job, perhaps--we might have left this cellar. We could have gone out
to-morrow and bought things--gone into shops--we might have had food,
coal--

MARY. Don't, Joe--what's the use? And who knows--it may prove a blessing
to us. You told the policeman where we lived?

JOE. A blessing! I'll get up to-morrow, after having coughed out my lungs
all night--and I'll go into the streets and walk there from left to right
and from right to left, standing at this corner and at that, peering into
men's faces, watching people go to their shops and their offices, people
who are warm and comfortable--and so it will go on, till the end comes.

MARY. [_Standing very close to him, almost in a whisper._] Why not now,
Joe?

JOE. [_With a startled glance at her._] The end?

MARY. There's no room for us in this world--

JOE. If I'd taken that money--

MARY. It's too late for that now. And I'm glad you didn't--yes, I am--I'm
glad. We'll go before God clean-handed. And we'll say to Him we didn't
steal, or do anything He didn't want us too. And we'll tell Him we've died
because people wouldn't allow us to live.

JOE. [_With a shudder._] No. Not that--we'll wait, Mary. Don't speak of
that.

MARY. [_Wistfully._] You've thought of it too?

JOE. Thought of it! Don't, Mary, don't! It's bad enough, in the night,
when I lie there and think of to-morrow! Something will happen--it must.

MARY. What? We haven't a friend in the world.

JOE. I may meet some one I used to know.

MARY. You've met them before--they always refuse--

JOE. [_Passionately._] I've done nothing wrong--I haven't drunk or
gambled--I can't help being only a clerk, and unable to do heavy work! I
can't help my lungs being weak! I've a wife and a child, like other
people--and all we ask is to be allowed to live!

MARY. [_Pleading._] Let's give it up, Joe. Go away together, you'd sleep
without coughing. Sleep, that's all. And God will be kinder than men.

JOE. [_Groaning._] Don't, Mary--don't!

MARY. Joe, I can't stand it any longer--I can't. Not only myself--but
Minnie--Joe, it's too much for me! I can't stand Minnie crying, and asking
me for her breakfast, as she will in the morning. Joe, dear Joe, let there
be no morning!

JOE. [_Completely overcome._] Oh, Mary, Mary!

MARY. It's not _your_ fault, dear--you've done what you could. Not _your_
fault they won't let you work--you've