MARY. [_Pleading._] Let's give it up, Joe. Go away together, you'd sleep without coughing. Sleep, that's all. And God will be kinder than men. JOE. [_Groaning._] Don't, Mary--don't! MARY. Joe, I can't stand it any longer--I can't. Not only myself--but Minnie--Joe, it's too much for me! I can't stand Minnie crying, and asking me for her breakfast, as she will in the morning. Joe, dear Joe, let there be no morning! JOE. [_Completely overcome._] Oh, Mary, Mary! MARY. It's not _your_ fault, dear--you've done what you could. Not _your_ fault they won't let you work--you've tried hard enough. And no woman ever had a better husband than you've been to me. I love you, dear Joe. And let's do it--let's make an end. And take Minnie with us. JOE. [_Springing up._] Mary, I'll steal something to-morrow. MARY. And they'd send you to prison. Besides, then God would be angry. Now we can go to Him and need not be ashamed. Let us, dear Joe--oh, do let us! I'm so tired! JOE. No. MARY. [_Sorrowfully._] You won't? JOE. [_Doggedly._] No. We'll go to the workhouse. MARY. You've seen them in there, haven't you? JOE. Yes. MARY. You've seen them standing at the window, staring at the world? And they'd take you away from me. JOE. That's better than-- MARY. [_Firmly._] I won't do it, Joe. I've been a good wife to you--I've been a good mother: and I love you, though I'm ragged and have pawned all my clothes; and I'll strangle myself rather than go to the workhouse and be shut away from you. JOE. [_With a loud cry._] No! I'll _make_ them give me something; and if I _have_ to kill, it shan't be my wife and child! To-morrow I'll come home with food and money--to-morrow-- [_There is a sudden wail from the child;_ JOE _stops and stares at her;_ MARY _goes quickly to the mattress and soothes the little girl._ MARY. Hush, dear, hush--no it's not morning yet, not time for breakfast. Go to sleep again, dear. Yes, daddy's come back, and things are going to be all right now--No, dear, you can't be hungry, really--remember those beautiful cakes. Go to sleep, Minnie, dear. You're cold? [_She takes off her ragged shawl and wraps it round the child._] There, dear, you won't be cold now. Go to sleep, Minnie-- [_The child's wail dies away, as_ MARY _soothes her back to sleep._ JOE. [_Staggering forward with a sudden cry._] God, O God, give us bread! THE CURTAIN SLOWLY FALLS THE OPEN DOOR THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY SIR GEOFFREY TRANSOM LADY TORMINSTER THE OPEN DOOR SCENE: _The drawing-room of_ LORD TORMINSTER'S _cottage by the sea. It is 2 a.m. of a fine July night; the French windows are open on to the lawn. The room is dark; in an armchair,_ SIR GEOFFREY TRANSOM, _a man of forty, with a frank, pleasant face, is seated, deep in thought. Suddenly the door opens, and_ LADY TORMINSTER _appears and switches on the light. She starts at seeing_ SIR GEOFFREY. LADY TORMINSTER. Oh!