KATE. [Coming down.] Look here, mother—­I’ve heard you say you had to run away from home with father because your people didn’t like him—­but that didn’t make him any worse, did it?

MRS. VERNON.  Well, it didn’t make him any better, Kate, and I’ve regretted it from the bottom of my heart a hundred times—­I want you to understand—­[Looks uneasily at door.] I’ve told it to him often enough—­[Lowering voice.] And if he was here I’d tell him again now—­that I could ha’ married a doctor.

LIZBETH.  You’re not calculatin’ to run away with Travers, are you, Kate?

KATE.  You know I’m not, Lizbeth—­but I think you and mother might be a little more considerate in what you say.  I try to make the place tidy and nice for your evenings with Dave, don’t I?

LIZBETH.  Well, I didn’t mean nothin’, Kate.

KATE.  And I do my share of the housework. [Goes to window.  As her voice trembles, MRS. VERNON signals silence to LIZBETH.

MRS. VERNON.  Of course you do, dear.  Lizbeth, you oughtn’t to be so thoughtless in what you say.

Enter DAVE with beer.

DAVE.  Here you are, Mrs. Vernon.

MRS. VERNON.  Thank you, Dave—­ask that old man in there if he’ll have a glass.

DAVE.  Yes’m. [Exit to shop.

MRS. VERNON.  We’ll clear the place right up, Kate—­don’t feel bad about it.

KATE.  You needn’t, mother—­if Mr. Travers calls, we can go walking. [Goes to door.

MRS. VERNON.  No, Kate, and I say it only fur your sake—­I wouldn’t have the people of Bowling Green see you trapsing the streets at night with a man you ain’t knowed but a month, fur nothin’.

Enter JOE VERNON.  JOE is a six-footer, with full beard.  He wears a leather apron and has his sleeves rolled up.

JOE.  Dave says, ma, that—­

MRS. VERNON.  Yes, here it is. [Hands glass of beer.] Nearly dead,
Joe?

JOE. [Smiling.] Oh, no—­but I kin stand this.

KATE.  Is there any objection to our spending the evening at Mrs.
Woods?

MRS. VERNON.  Now, what’s the attraction there?

KATE.  She has a piano.

MRS. VERNON.  Yes, with two teeth broke out of it.  Why don’t you ever play on the melodeon? [Pointing to it.

JOE.  Yes, after Jim givin’ it to you.

MRS. VERNON. [Clearing up the ironing.] I wouldn’t treat a dog the way you treat Jim Radburn, Kate.

KATE silent at doorway.

JOE. [At the wash-basin on the bench at back wall.] Ma, where’s the soap?

MRS. VERNON.  I must a-left it in the dish-pan.

JOE gets it and begins washing in tin basin.

JOE. [Calling through sputter.] Dave!

DAVE. [Off.] Yes, sir.

JOE. [At door of shop.] Might as well shut up.