MARY. I just thought I"d wait--I"d an idea something might have happened; that some one might have stopped you in the street, some one with a heart--and that he"d have come in with you to-night--and seen us--seen Minnie--and said--"Well, here"s money--I"ll put you on your legs again"--And then we"d have given the purse back, Joe.
JOE. [_As he still mechanically balances it in his hand._] Yes.
MARY. Can"t go on like this, can we? You"ll cough all night again, as you did yesterday--and the stuff they gave you at the Dispensary"s no good. If you had clothes, you might get some sort of a job perhaps--you know you had to give up trying because you were so shabby.
JOE. They laugh at me.
MARY. [_With a glance at herself._] And I"m really ashamed to walk through the streets--
JOE. I know--though I"m getting used to it. Besides, there"s the kiddie.
Let"s have a look at her.
MARY. Be careful you don"t wake her, Joe!
JOE. There"s a fire.
MARY. She"ll be hungry.
JOE. You said that she had some food?
MARY. That was at three o"clock. And little things aren"t like us--they want their regular meals. Night after night she has been hungry, and I"ve had nothing to give her. That"s why I took the purse.
JOE. [_Still holding it mechanically and staring at it._] Yes. And, after all, why not?
MARY. We can get the poor little thing some warm clothes, some good food--
JOE. [_Under his breath._] A thief"s daughter.
[_Covers his face with his hands._
MARY. Joe!
JOE. Not nice, is it? Can"t be helped, of course. And who cares? For three months this game has gone on--we getting shabbier, wretcheder, hungrier--no one bothers--all _they_ say is "keep off the pavement." Let"s see what"s in the purse.
MARY. [_Eagerly._] Yes, yes!
JOE. [_Lifting his head as he is on the point of opening the purse._]
That"s the policeman pa.s.sing.
MARY. [_Impatiently._] Never mind that--
JOE. [_Turning to the purse again._] First time in my life I"ve been afraid when I heard the policeman.
[_He has his finger on the catch of the purse when he pauses for a moment--then acting on a sudden impulse, makes a dart for the door, opens it, and is out, and up the area steps._
MARY. [_With a despairing cry._] Joe!
[_She flings herself on the mattress, and sobs silently, so as not to awaken, the child._ JOE _returns, hanging his head, dragging one foot before the other._
MARY. [_Still sobbing, but trying to control herself._] Why did you do that?
JOE. [_Humbly._] I don"t know--
MARY. You gave it to the policeman?
JOE. Yes.
MARY. What did you tell him?
JOE. That you had found it.
MARY. Where?
JOE. In a Tube Station. Picked it up because we were starving. That we hadn"t opened it. And that we lived here, in this cellar.
MARY. [_With a little shake._] I expect he"ll keep it himself!
JOE. [_Miserably._] Perhaps.
[_There is silence for a moment; she has ceased to cry; suddenly she raises herself violently on her elbow._
MARY. You fool! You fool!
JOE. [_Pleading._] Mary!
MARY. With your stupid ideas of honesty! What have they done for you, or me?
JOE. [_Dropping his head again._] It"s the kiddie, you know--her being a thief"s daughter--
MARY. Is that worse than being the daughter of a pair of miserable beggars?
JOE. [_Under his breath._] I suppose it is, somehow--
MARY. You"d rather she went hungry?
JOE. [_Despairingly._] I don"t know how it was--hearing his tramp up there--
MARY. You were afraid?
JOE. I don"t want you taken to prison.
MARY. [_With a wail._] I"ll be taken to the graveyard soon, in a pauper"s coffin!
JOE. [_Starts suddenly._] Suppose we did that?
MARY. [_Staring._] The workhouse?
JOE. Why not, after all? That"s what it will come to, sooner or later.