MRS PETERS:  (apologetically) Of course they’ve got awful important things on their minds.

(Pulls up a chair and joins MRS HALE at the table.)

MRS HALE:  (examining another block) Mrs Peters, look at this one.  Here, this is the one she was working on, and look at the sewing!  All the rest of it has been so nice and even.  And look at this!  It’s all over the place!  Why, it looks as if she didn’t know what she was about!

(After she has said this they look at each other, then start to glance back at the door.  After an instant MRS HALE has pulled at a knot and ripped the sewing.)

MRS PETERS:  Oh, what are you doing, Mrs Hale?

MRS HALE:  (mildly) Just pulling out a stitch or two that’s not sewed very good. (threading a needle) Bad sewing always made me fidgety.

MRS PETERS:  (nervously) I don’t think we ought to touch things.

MRS HALE:  I’ll just finish up this end. (suddenly stopping and leaning forward) Mrs Peters?

MRS PETERS:  Yes, Mrs Hale?

MRS HALE:  What do you suppose she was so nervous about?

MRS PETERS:  Oh—­I don’t know.  I don’t know as she was nervous.  I sometimes sew awful queer when I’m just tired. (MRS HALE starts to say something, looks at MRS PETERS, then goes on sewing) Well I must get these things wrapped up.  They may be through sooner than we think, (putting apron and other things together) I wonder where I can find a piece of paper, and string.

MRS HALE:  In that cupboard, maybe.

MRS PETERS:  (looking in cupboard) Why, here’s a bird-cage, (holds it up) Did she have a bird, Mrs Hale?

MRS HALE:  Why, I don’t know whether she did or not—­I’ve not been here for so long.  There was a man around last year selling canaries cheap, but I don’t know as she took one; maybe she did.  She used to sing real pretty herself.

MRS PETERS:  (glancing around) Seems funny to think of a bird here.  But she must have had one, or why would she have a cage?  I wonder what happened to it.

MRS HALE:  I s’pose maybe the cat got it.

MRS PETERS:  No, she didn’t have a cat.  She’s got that feeling some people have about cats—­being afraid of them.  My cat got in her room and she was real upset and asked me to take it out.

MRS HALE:  My sister Bessie was like that.  Queer, ain’t it?

MRS PETERS:  (examining the cage) Why, look at this door.  It’s broke.  One hinge is pulled apart.

MRS HALE:  (looking too) Looks as if someone must have been rough with it.

MRS PETERS:  Why, yes.

(She brings the cage forward and puts it on the table.)

MRS HALE:  I wish if they’re going to find any evidence they’d be about it.  I don’t like this place.

MRS PETERS:  But I’m awful glad you came with me, Mrs Hale.  It would be lonesome for me sitting here alone.