TOM. And what 'ave ye said to Bill? MRS. A. Nowt. There never was a son would give 'eed to 'is mother.... 'Tisn't for 'im I'm thinkin', but for t' children that she's bear 'im. I 'oped, and went on 'opin' till there was no 'ope left in me, and I lived to curse the day that each one of my sons was born. John and Peter are dead an' left no child behind, and it were better for Bill also to leave no child behind. There's a day and 'alf a day o' peace and content for a woman with such a man, and there's long, long years of thinkin' on the peace and content that's gone. There's long, long years of watching the child that you've borne and suckled turn rotten, an' I say that t' birth-pangs are nowt to t' pangs that ye 'ave from the childer of such a man as Bill or Bill's father.... She's a strong girl an' a good girl; but there's this that is stronger than 'er. [_Mary comes again, very pretty in her blue dress. She is at once sensible of the strangeness in Tom and Ann. She stands looking from one to the other. Mrs. Airey sits gazing into the fire._] MARY. Why, mother ... 'tis kind of you to come on this morning. MRS. A. Ay, 'tis kind of me. [_Ann steals away upstairs and Tom, taking the lead from her, goes out into the road._] Come 'ere, my pretty. [_Mary goes and stands by her._] MARY. The sun is shining and the bees all out and busy to gather in the honey. MRS. A. 'Tis the bees as is t' wise people to work away in t' dark when t' sun is hidden, and to work away in t' sun when 'tis bright and light. 'Tis the bees as is t' wise people that takes their men an' kills 'em for the 'arm that they may do, and it's us that's the foolish ones to make soft the way of our men an' let them strut before us and lie; and 'tis us that's the foolish ones ever to give a thought to their needs that give never a one to ours. MARY. 'Tis us that's t' glorious ones to 'elp them that is so weak, and 'tis us that's the brave and the kind ones to let them 'ave the 'ole world to play with when they will give never a thought to us that gives it t' 'em. MRS. A. My pretty, my pretty, there's never a one of us can 'elp a man that thinks 'isself a man an' strong, poor fool, an' there's never a one of us can 'elp a man that's got a curse on 'im and is rotten through to t' bone, an' not one day can you be a 'elp to such a man as this.... MARY. There's not one day that I will not try, and not one day that I will not fight to win 'im back.... MRS. A. The life of a woman is a sorrowful thing.... MARY. For all its sorrow, 'tis a greater thing than t' life of a man ... an' so I'll live it....