(_He stops in confusion, dropping his eyes. PHŒBE turns from him, lays one hand on the latch and the other on JUDITH’s arm._) PHŒBE: Come, lass, it’s time We were getting home. JUDITH: We? PHŒBE: Ay, unless you’d stay? You’ve the right. JUDITH: I stay? O God, what have I done! That I’d never crossed the threshold! ELIZA: You’re not going To leave him, Phœbe? You cannot: you’re his wife; And cannot quit ... But, I’m getting old ... JIM: Leave me? Leave me? She’s mad! I never heard the like-- And on my wedding-day--stark, staring mad! But, I’m your husband; and I bid you bide. PHŒBE: O Jim, if you had only told the truth, I might, God knows--for I was fond of you, And trusted ... JIM: Now you’re talking sense. Leave me-- And married to me in a church, and all! But, that’s all over; and you’re not huffed now. There’s naught in me to take a scunner at. Yet the shying filly may prove a steady mare, Once a man’s astriddle her who’ll stand no capers. You’ve got to let a woman learn who’s master, Sooner or later: so, it’s just as well To get it over, once and for all. That’s that. And now, let Judith go. Come, Phœbe, lass: I thought you’d a tender heart. Don’t be too hard On a luckless wench: but let bygones be bygones. All’s well that ends well. And what odds, my lass, Even if the brat were mine? PHŒBE: Judith, you’re ready? JIM: Let the lass bide, and sup with us. I’ll warrant She’ll not say nay: she’s a peckish look, as though She’d tasted no singing-hinnies this long while back. Mother, another cup. Draw up your chairs. We’ve not a wedding-party every day At Krindlesyke. I’m ravenous as a squab, When someone’s potted dad and mammy crow. So sit down, Phœbe, before I clear the board. PHŒBE: Judith, it’s time we were getting home. JUDITH: Home, lass? I’ve got no home: I’ve long been homeless: I ... PHŒBE: That much he told me about you: he spoke the truth So far, at least: but I have still a home, My mother will be glad to see me back-- Ay, more than glad: she was loth to let me go; Though, trusting Jim, as she trusted everyone, She said but little: and she’ll welcome you, If only for your baby’s sake. She’s just A child, with children. Unless you are too proud ... Nay! But I see you’ll come. We’ll live and work, And tend the bairn, as sisters, we who care. Come, Judith. (_She throws the door wide and goes out, without looking back. JIM steps forward to stay her, but halts, bewildered, on the threshold, and stands gazing after her._)