ROBERTS.There, there! Come, come! That's right! [Bitterly.] Not one penny will they put by for a day like this.Not they! Hand to mouth--Gad!--I know them! They've broke my heart.There was no holdin' them at the start, but now the pinch 'as come.
MRS.ROBERTS.How can you expect it, David? They're not made of iron.
ROBERTS.Expect it? Wouldn't I expect what I would do meself?
Wouldn't I starve an' rot rather than give in? What one man can do, another can.
MRS.ROBERTS.And the women?
ROBERTS.This is not women's work.
MRS.ROBERTS.[With a flash of malice.] No, the women may die for all you care.That's their work.
ROBERTS.[Averting his eyes.] Who talks of dying? No one will die till we have beaten these----[He meets her eyes again, and again turns his away.Excitedly.]
This is what I've been waiting for all these months.To get the old robbers down, and send them home again without a farthin's worth o'
change.I 've seen their faces, I tell you, in the valley of the shadow of defeat.
[He goes to the peg and takes down his hat.]
MRS.ROBERTS.[Following with her eyes-softly.] Take your overcoat, David; it must be bitter cold.
ROBERTS.[Coming up to her-his eyes are furtive.] No, no! There, there, stay quiet and warm.I won't be long, my girl.
MRS.ROBERTS.[With soft bitterness.] You'd better take it.
[She lifts the coat.But ROBERTS puts it back, and wraps it round her.He tries to meet her eyes, but cannot.MRS.
ROBERTS stays huddled in the coat, her eyes, that follow him about, are half malicious, half yearning.He looks at his watch again, and turns to go.In the doorway he meets JAN THOMAS, a boy of ten in clothes too big for him, carrying a penny whistle.]
ROBERTS.Hallo, boy!
[He goes.JAN stops within a yard of MRS.ROBERTS, and stares at her without a word.]
MRS.ROBERTS.Well, Jan!
JAN.Father 's coming; sister Madge is coming.
[He sits at the table, and fidgets with his whistle; he blows three vague notes; then imitates a cuckoo.]
[There is a tap on the door.Old THOMAS comes in.]
THOMAS.A very coot tay to you, Ma'am.It is petter that you are.
MRS.ROBERTS.Thank you, Mr.Thomas.
THOMAS.[Nervously.] Roberts in?
MRS.ROBERTS.Just gone on to the meeting, Mr.Thomas.
THOMAS.[With relief, becoming talkative.] This is fery unfortunate, look you! I came to tell him that we must make terms with London.It is a fery great pity he is gone to the meeting.He will be kicking against the pricks, I am thinking.
MRS.ROBERTS.[Half rising.] He'll never give in, Mr.Thomas.
THOMAS.You must not be fretting, that is very pat for you.Look you, there iss hartly any mans for supporting him now, but the engineers and George Rous.[Solemnly.] This strike is no longer Going with Chapel, look you! I have listened carefully, an' I have talked with her.
[JAN blows.]
Sst! I don't care what th' others say, I say that Chapel means us to be stopping the trouple, that is what I make of her; and it is my opinion that this is the fery best thing for all of us.If it was n't my opinion, I ton't say but it is my opinion, look you.
MRS.ROBERTS.[Trying to suppress her excitement.] I don't know what'll come to Roberts, if you give in.
