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 no strike that winter! [With grim humour.] This winter’s ’ard enough for me.  Mrs. Roberts, you don’t want no ’arder winter, do you?  Wouldn’t seem natural to ’ave a dinner, would it, Mrs. Bulgin?

Mrs. Bulgin.  We’ve had bread and tea last four days.

Mrs. Yeo.  You got that Friday’s laundry job?

Mrs. Bulgin. [Dispiritedly.] They said they’d give it me, but when
I went last Friday, they were full up.  I got to go again next week.

Mrs. Yeo.  Ah!  There’s too many after that.  I send Yeo out on the ice to put on the gentry’s skates an’ pick up what ’e can.  Stops ’im from broodin’ about the ’ouse.

Mrs. Bulgin. [In a desolate, matter-of-fact voice.] Leavin’ out the men—­it’s bad enough with the children.  I keep ’em in bed, they don’t get so hungry when they’re not running about; but they’re that restless in bed they worry your life out.

Mrs. Yeo.  You’re lucky they’re all so small.  It ‘s the goin’ to school that makes ’em ‘ungry.  Don’t Bulgin give you anythin’?

Mrs. Bulgin. [Shakes her head, then, as though by afterthought.] Would if he could, I s’pose.

Mrs. Yeo. [Sardonically.] What!  ’Ave n’t ’e got no shares in the Company?

Mrs. Rous. [Rising with tremulous cheerfulness.] Well, good-bye, Annie Roberts, I’m going along home.

Mrs. Roberts.  Stay an’ have a cup of tea, Mrs. Rous?

Mrs. Rous. [With the faintest smile.] Roberts ’ll want ’is tea when he comes in.  I’ll just go an’ get to bed; it’s warmer there than anywhere.

     [She moves very shakily towards the door.]

Mrs. Yeo. [Rising and giving her an arm.] Come on, Mother, take my arm; we’re all going’ the same way.

Mrs. Rous. [Taking the arm.]Thank you, my dearies!

     [They go out, followed by Mrs. Bulgin.]