You haven't a flask?

DEARTH. No, I don't take anything myself. But let me see....

MARGARET (sparkling). I know! You said we had five pounds. (To the
needy one.) Would you like five pounds?

DEARTH. Darling, don't be stupid; we haven't paid our bill at the
inn.

ALICE (with bravado). All right; I never asked you for anything.

DEARTH. Don't take me up in that way: I have had my ups and downs
myself. Here is ten bob and welcome.

(He surreptitiously slips a coin into MARGARET'S hand.)

MARGARET. And I have half a crown. It is quite easy for us. Dad will
be getting another fiver any day. You can't think how exciting it is
when the fiver comes in; we dance and then we run out and buy chops.

DEARTH. Margaret!

ALICE. It's kind of you. I'm richer this minute than I have been for
many a day.

DEARTH. It's nothing; I am sure you would do the same for us.

ALICE. I wish I was as sure.

DEARTH. Of course you would. Glad to be of any help. Get some victuals
as quickly as you can. Best of wishes, ma'am, and may your luck
change.

ALICE. Same to you, and may yours go on.

MARGARET. Good-night.

ALICE. What is her name, Mister?

DEARTH (who has returned to his easel). Margaret.

ALICE. Margaret. You drew something good out of the lucky bag when you
got her, Mister.

DEARTH. Yes.

ALICE. Take care of her; they are easily lost.

(She shuffles away.)

DEARTH. Poor soul. I expect she has had a rough time, and that some
man is to blame for it--partly, at any rate. (Restless) That woman
rather affects me, Margaret; I don't know why. Didn't you like her
husky voice? (He goes on painting.) I say, Margaret, we lucky ones,
let's swear always to be kind to people who are down on their luck,
and then when we are kind let's be a little kinder.

MARGARET (gleefully). Yes, let's.

DEARTH. Margaret, always feel sorry for the failures, the ones who are
always failures--especially in my sort of calling. Wouldn't it be
lovely, to turn them on the thirty-ninth year of failure into
glittering successes?

MARGARET. Topping.

DEARTH. Topping.

MARGARET. Oh, topping. How could we do it, Dad?

DEARTH. By letter. 'To poor old Tom Broken Heart, Top Attic, Garret
Chambers, S.E.--'DEAR SIR,--His Majesty has been graciously pleased
to purchase your superb picture of Marlow Ferry.'

MARGARET. 'P.S.--I am sending the money in a sack so as you can hear
it chink.'

DEARTH. What could we do for our friend who passed just now