MARY. It 'as come to this day an' there is no goin' back. D' ye think I've not seed t' soft, gentle things that are given to other women, an' not envied them? D' ye think I've not seed 'em walkin' shut-eyed into all sorts o' foolishness an' never askin' for the trewth o' it, an' not envied 'em for doin' that? D' ye think I've not seed the girls I growed wi' matin' lightly an' lightly weddin', an' not envied 'em for that, they wi' a 'ouse an' babes an' me drudgin' away in t' farm, me wi' my man to 'and an' only this agin 'im? D' ye think I've not been tore in two wi' wantin' to close my eyes an' walk like others into it an' never think what is to come? There's many an' many a night that I've sat there under t' stars wi' t' three counties afore me an' t' sea, an' t' sheep croppin', an' my own thoughts for all the comp'ny that I 'ad, an' fightin' this way an' that for to take 'up an' let 'un be so rotten, as ever 'e might be; an' there's many an' many a night when the thoughts come so fast that they hurt me an' I lay pressed close to t' ground wi' me 'ands clawin' at it an' me teeth bitin' into t' ground for to get closer an' 'ide from myself; an' many a night when I sat there seein' the man as t' brave lad 'e was when I seed 'un first leapin' down the 'ill, an' knowin' that nothin' in the world, nothin' that I could do to 'un or that 'e could do 'isself, would ever take that fro' me.... In all my time o' my weary waitin' there 'as never been a soul that I told so much to, an' God knows there never 'as been an' never will be a time when I can tell as much to 'im.... MRS. A. My pretty, my pretty, 'tis a waste an' a wicked, wicked waste.... MARY. 'Tis a day an' alf a day agin never a moment.... MRS. A. 'Tis that, and so 'tis wi' all o' us ... an' so 'twill be.... God bless ye, my dear.... [_Ann comes down. Mary is looking out of the window._] ANN. Ye forgot the ribbon for yer 'air, that I fetched 'specially fro' t' town. MARY. Why, yes. Will ye tie it, Ann? [_Ann ties the ribbon in her hair._] MRS. A. Pretty, my dear, oh! pretty-- MARY. I'm to walk to t' church o' Tom's arm...? ANN. An' I to Tom's left; wi' the bridesmaids be'ind, an' the rest a followin'....