t--what--why?

MADGE. Annie Roberts is dead.

[There is a silence.]

ENID. [Horrified.] But it's only a little more than an hour since I
saw her.

MADGE. Of cold and hunger.

ENID. [Rising.] Oh! that's not true! the poor thing's heart----
What makes you look at me like that? I tried to help her.

MADGE. [With suppressed savagery.] I thought you'd like to know.

ENID. [Passionately.] It's so unjust! Can't you see that I want to
help you all?

MADGE. I never harmed any one that had n't harmed me first.

ENID. [Coldly.] What harm have I done you? Why do you speak to me
like that?

MADGE. [With the bitterest intensity.] You come out of your comfort
to spy on us! A week of hunger, that's what you want!

ENID. [Standing her ground.] Don't talk nonsense!

MADGE. I saw her die; her hands were blue with the cold.

ENID. [With a movement of grief.] Oh! why wouldn't she let me help
her? It's such senseless pride!

MADGE. Pride's better than nothing to keep your body warm.

ENID. [Passionately.] I won't talk to you! How can you tell what I
feel? It's not my fault that I was born better off than you.

MADGE. We don't want your money.

ENID. You don't understand, and you don't want to; please to go
away!

MADGE. [Balefully.] You've killed her, for all your soft words, you
and your father!

ENID. [With rage and emotion.] That's wicked! My father is
suffering himself through this wretched strike.

MADGE. [With sombre triumph.] Then tell him Mrs. Roberts is dead!
That 'll make him better.

ENID. Go away!

MADGE. When a person hurts us we get it back on them.

[She makes a sudden and swift movement towards ENID, fixing her
eyes on the child's frock lying across the little table. ENID
snatches the frock up, as though it were the child itself. They
stand a yard apart, crossing glances.]

MADGE. [Pointing to the frock with a little smile.] Ah! You felt
that! Lucky it's her mother--not her children--you've to look after,
is n't it. She won't trouble you long!

ENID. Go away!

MADGE. I've given you the message.

[She turns and goes out into the hall. ENID, motionless till
she has gone, sinks down at the table, bending her head over the
frock, which she is still clutching to her. The double-doors
are opened, and ANTHONY comes slowly in; he passes his daughter,
and lowers himself into an arm-chair. He is