drinks deeply; then sets it
down with a deep and rumbling sigh, and leans back in his
chair.]

The curtain falls.

ACT II

SCENE I

It is half-past three. In the kitchen of Roberts's cottage a
meagre little fire is burning. The room is clean and tidy, very
barely furnished, with a brick floor and white-washed walls,
much stained with smoke. There is a kettle on the fire. A door
opposite the fireplace opens inward from a snowy street. On the
wooden table are a cup and saucer, a teapot, knife, and plate of
bread and cheese. Close to the fireplace in an old arm-chair,
wrapped in a rug, sits MRS. ROBERTS, a thin and dark-haired
woman about thirty-five, with patient eyes. Her hair is not
done up, but tied back with a piece of ribbon. By the fire,
too, is MRS. YEO; a red-haired, broad-faced person. Sitting
near the table is MRS. ROUS, an old lady, ashen-white, with
silver hair; by the door, standing, as if about to go, is MRS.
BULGIN, a little pale, pinched-up woman. In a chair, with her
elbows resting on the table, avid her face resting in her hands,
sits MADGE THOMAS, a good-looking girl, of twenty-two, with high
cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and dark untidy hair. She is
listening to the talk, but she neither speaks nor moves.

MRS. YEO. So he give me a sixpence, and that's the first bit o'
money I seen this week. There an't much 'eat to this fire. Come and
warm yerself Mrs. Rous, you're lookin' as white as the snow, you are.

MRS. ROUS. [Shivering--placidly.] Ah! but the winter my old man
was took was the proper winter. Seventy-nine that was, when none of
you was hardly born--not Madge Thomas, nor Sue Bulgin. [Looking at
them in turn.] Annie Roberts, 'ow old were you, dear?

MRS ROBERTS. Seven, Mrs. Rous.

MRS. ROUS. Seven--well, there! A tiny little thing!

MRS. YEO. [Aggressively.] Well, I was ten myself, I remembers it.

MRS. Rous. [Placidly.] The Company hadn't been started three years.
Father was workin' on the acid, that's 'ow he got 'is pisoned-leg.
I kep' sayin' to 'im, "Father, you've got a pisoned leg." "Well," 'e
said, "Mother, pison or no pison, I can't afford to go a-layin' up."
An' two days after, he was on 'is back, and never got up again. It
was Providence! There was n't none o' these Compensation Acts then.

MRS. YEO. Ye had n't