Madge. [Moving for the first time.] There, Annie, you see that!  I told George Rous, “Don’t think to have my company till you’ve made an end of all this trouble.  You ought to be ashamed,” I said, “with your own mother looking like a ghost, and not a stick to put on the fire.  So long as you’re able to fill your pipes, you’ll let us starve.”  “I ’ll take my oath, Madge,” he said, “I ’ve not had smoke nor drink these three weeks!” “Well, then, why do you go on with it?” “I can’t go back on Roberts!” . . .  That’s it!  Roberts, always Roberts!  They’d all drop it but for him.  When he talks it’s the devil that comes into them.

     [A silence.  Mrs. Roberts makes a movement of pain.]

Ah!  You don’t want him beaten!  He’s your man.  With everybody like their own shadows! [She makes a gesture towards Mrs. Roberts.] If Rous wants me he must give up Roberts.  If he gave him up—­they all would.  They’re only waiting for a lead.  Father’s against him—­ they’re all against him in their hearts.

Mrs. Roberts.  You won’t beat Roberts!

     [They look silently at each other.]

Madge.  Won’t I?  The cowards—­when their own mothers and their own children don’t know where to turn.

Mrs. Roberts.  Madge!

Madge. [Looking searchingly at Mrs. Roberts.] I wonder he can look you in the face. [She squats before the fire, with her hands out to the flame.] Harness is here again.  They’ll have to make up their minds to-day.

Mrs. Roberts. [In a soft, slow voice, with a slight West-country burr.] Roberts will never give up the furnace-men and engineers.  ’T wouldn’t be right.

Madge.  You can’t deceive me.  It’s just his pride.

     [A tapping at the door is heard, the women turn as Enid enters. 
     She wears a round fur cap, and a jacket of squirrel’s fur.  She
     closes the door behind her.]

Enid.  Can I come in, Annie?

Mrs. Roberts. [Flinching.] Miss Enid!  Give Mrs. Underwood a chair,
Madge!

     [Madge gives Enid the chair she has been sitting on.]

Enid.  Thank you!

Enid.  Are you any better?

Mrs. Roberts.  Yes, M’m; thank you, M’m.

Enid. [Looking at the sullen Madge as though requesting her departure.] Why did you send back the jelly?  I call that really wicked of you!

Mrs. Roberts.  Thank you, M’m, I’d no need for it.

Enid.  Of course!  It was Roberts’s doing, wasn’t it?  How can he let all this suffering go on amongst you?

Madge. [Suddenly.] What suffering?

Enid. [Surprised.] I beg your pardon!

Madge.  Who said there was suffering?