oomin' to see an ould woman like me.

EMMA (_by door_). Nought o' th' sort, Mrs. Ormerod. Th' mill's just
loosed and A thowt A'd step in as A were passin' and see 'ow tha
was feeling like.

SARAH (_crossing to box_). Oh, nicely, nicely, thankee. It's
only my 'ands as is gone paralytic, tha knaws, an' a weaver's no
manner o' good to nobody without th' use o' 'er'ands. A'm all
reeght in masel'. That's worst of it.

EMMA. Well, while A'm 'ere, Mrs. Ormerod, is theer nought as A
can do for thee?

SARAH. A dunno as theer is, thankee, Emma.

EMMA (_taking her shawl off, looking round and hanging it on a
peg in the door_). Well, A knaws better. What wert doin' when
A coom in? Packin' yon box?

SARAH. Aye. Tha sees theer's a two three things as A canna bear
thowt o' parting from. A don't reeghtly knaw if they'll let me
tak' 'em into workus wi' me, but A canna have 'em sold wi' rest
of stuff.

EMMA (_crosses below SARAH to box, going on her knees_). Let me
help yo'.

SARAH. Tha's a good lass, Emma. A'd tak' it kindly of thee.

EMMA. They'd do wi' packin' a bit closer. A dunno as they'd carry
safe that road.

SARAH. A know. It's my 'ands, tha sees, as mak's it difficult for
me.

(_Sits on chair._)

EMMA. Aye. A'll soon settle 'em a bit tighter.

(_Lifts all out, buries her arms in the box, and rearranges its
contents._)

SARAH. But what's 'appened to thy looms, lass? They'll not weave
by 'emselves while thee's 'ere, tha knows.

EMMA (_looking round_). Eh, looms is all reeght. Factory's stopped.
It's Saturday afternoon.

SARAH. So 't is. A'd clean forgot. A do forget time o' th' week
sittin' 'ere day arter day wi' nought to do.

EMMA. So that's all reeght. Tha's no need to worry about me.
Tha's got trouble enough of thy own.

(_Resuming at the box_)

SARAH. Aye, th' art reeght theer, lass. Theer's none on us likes
to think o' goin' to workus when we're ould.

EMMA. 'Appen it'll be all reeght after all. Parson's coomin' to
see thee.

SARAH. Aye, A knaw 'e is. A dunno, but A'm in 'opes 'e'll do
summat for me. Tha can't never tell what them folks can do.

EMMA (_kneeling up_). Tha keep thy pecker oop, Mrs. Ormerod. That's
what my moother says to me when A tould 'er A were coomin' in to
thee. Keep 'er pecker oop, she says. It's not as if she'd been
lazy or a wastrel, she says; Sal Ormerod's bin a 'ard worker in
'er day, she says. It's not as if it were thy fault. Tha can't
'elp tha 'ands goin' paralyt