It's Mrs.
Jones's little boy, ma'am; he came here after his mother.

MRS. BARTHWICK. [Moving quickly to the window.] Poor little chap!
John, we ought n't to go on with this!

BARTHWICK. [Sitting heavily in a chair.] Ah! but it's out of our
hands!

[MRS. BARTHWICK turns her back to the window. There is an
expression of distress on hey face. She stands motionless,
compressing her lips. The crying begins again. BARTHWICK
coveys his ears with his hands, and MARLOW shuts the window.
The crying ceases.]

The curtain falls.

ACT III

Eight days have passed, and the scene is a London Police Court
at one o'clock. A canopied seat of Justice is surmounted by
the lion and unicorn. Before the fire a worn-looking
MAGISTRATE is warming his coat-tails, and staring at two little
girls in faded blue and orange rags, who are placed before the
dock. Close to the witness-box is a RELIEVING OFFICER in an
overcoat, and a short brown beard. Beside the little girls
stands a bald POLICE CONSTABLE. On the front bench are sitting
BARTHWICK and ROPER, and behind them JACK. In the railed
enclosure are seedy-looking men and women. Some prosperous
constables sit or stand about.

MAGISTRATE. [In his paternal and ferocious voice, hissing his s's.]
Now let us dispose of these young ladies.

USHER. Theresa Livens, Maud Livens.

[The bald CONSTABLE indicates the little girls, who remain
silent, disillusioned, inattentive.]

Relieving Officer!

[The RELIEVING OFFICER Steps into the witness-box.]

USHER. The evidence you give to the Court shall be the truth, the
whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God! Kiss the
book!

[The book is kissed.]

RELIEVING OFFICER. [In a monotone, pausing slightly at each
sentence end, that his evidence may be inscribed.] About ten
o'clock this morning, your Worship, I found these two little girls
in Blue Street, Fulham, crying outside a public-house. Asked where
their home was, they said they had no home. Mother had gone away.
Asked about their father. Their father had no work. Asked where
they slept last night. At their aunt's. I 've made inquiries, your
Worship. The wife has broken up the home and gone on the streets.
The husband is out of work and living in common lodging-houses. The
husband's sister has eight children of her own,