ROBERTS smiles faintly. He brings his overcoat and wraps
it round her.]

[Looking at his watch.] Ten minutes to four! [As though inspired.]
I've seen their faces, there's no fight in them, except for that one
old robber.

MRS. ROBERTS. Won't you stop and eat, David? You've 'ad nothing all
day!

ROBERTS. [Putting his hand to his throat.] Can't swallow till those
old sharks are out o' the town: [He walks up and down.] I shall have
a bother with the men--there's no heart in them, the cowards. Blind
as bats, they are--can't see a day before their noses.

MRS. ROBERTS. It's the women, David.

ROBERTS. Ah! So they say! They can remember the women when their
own bellies speak! The women never stop them from the drink; but
from a little suffering to themselves in a sacred cause, the women
stop them fast enough.

MRS. ROBERTS. But think o' the children, David.

ROBERTS. Ah! If they will go breeding themselves for slaves,
without a thought o' the future o' them they breed----

MRS. ROBERTS. [Gasping.] That's enough, David; don't begin to talk
of that--I won't--I can't----

ROBERTS. [Staring at her.] Now, now, my girl!

MRS. ROBERTS. [Breathlessly.] No, no, David--I won't!

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 h