(The women listen to the men’s steps on the stairs, then look about the kitchen.)

MRS HALE:  I’d hate to have men coming into my kitchen, snooping around and criticising.

(She arranges the pans under sink which the LAWYER had shoved out of place.)

MRS PETERS:  Of course it’s no more than their duty.

MRS HALE:  Duty’s all right, but I guess that deputy sheriff that came out to make the fire might have got a little of this on. (gives the roller towel a pull) Wish I’d thought of that sooner.  Seems mean to talk about her for not having things slicked up when she had to come away in such a hurry.

MRS PETERS:  (who has gone to a small table in the left rear corner of the room, and lifted one end of a towel that covers a pan) She had bread set. (Stands still.)

MRS HALE:  (eyes fixed on a loaf of bread beside the bread-box, which is on a low shelf at the other side of the room.  Moves slowly toward it) She was going to put this in there, (picks up loaf, then abruptly drops it.  In a manner of returning to familiar things) It’s a shame about her fruit.  I wonder if it’s all gone. (gets up on the chair and looks) I think there’s some here that’s all right, Mrs Peters.  Yes—­here; (holding it toward the window) this is cherries, too. (looking again) I declare I believe that’s the only one. (gets down, bottle in her hand.  Goes to the sink and wipes it off on the outside) She’ll feel awful bad after all her hard work in the hot weather.  I remember the afternoon I put up my cherries last summer.

(She puts the bottle on the big kitchen table, center of the room.  With a sigh, is about to sit down in the rocking-chair.  Before she is seated realizes what chair it is; with a slow look at it, steps back.  The chair which she has touched rocks back and forth.)

MRS PETERS:  Well, I must get those things from the front room closet, (she goes to the door at the right, but after looking into the other room, steps back) You coming with me, Mrs Hale?  You could help me carry them.

(They go in the other room; reappear, MRS PETERS carrying a dress and skirt, MRS HALE following with a pair of shoes.)

MRS PETERS:  My, it’s cold in there.

(She puts the clothes on the big table, and hurries to the stove.)

MRS HALE:  (examining the skirt) Wright was close.  I think maybe that’s why she kept so much to herself.  She didn’t even belong to the Ladies Aid.  I suppose she felt she couldn’t do her part, and then you don’t enjoy things when you feel shabby.  She used to wear pretty clothes and be lively, when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in the choir.  But that—­oh, that was thirty years ago.  This all you was to take in?

MRS PETERS:  She said she wanted an apron.  Funny thing to want, for there isn’t much to get you dirty in jail, goodness knows.  But I suppose just to make her feel more natural.  She said they was in the top drawer in this cupboard.  Yes, here.  And then her little shawl that always hung behind the door. (opens stair door and looks) Yes, here it is.