BARBARA [complacently] You see I was right about your trade. [Bill, on the point of retorting furiously, finds himself, to his great shame and terror, in danger of crying instead. He sits down again suddenly]. What's her name? BILL [dogged] Er name's Mog Abbijam: thats wot her name is. BARBARA. Oh, she's gone to Canning Town, to our barracks there. BILL [fortified by his resentment of Mog's perfidy] is she? [Vindictively] Then I'm goin to Kennintahn arter her. [He crosses to the gate; hesitates; finally comes back at Barbara]. Are you lyin to me to get shut o me? BARBARA. I don't want to get shut of you. I want to keep you here and save your soul. You'd better stay: you're going to have a bad time today, Bill. BILL. Who's goin to give it to me? You, props. BARBARA. Someone you don't believe in. But you'll be glad afterwards. BILL [slinking off] I'll go to Kennintahn to be out o the reach o your tongue. [Suddenly turning on her with intense malice] And if I don't find Mog there, I'll come back and do two years for you, selp me Gawd if I don't! BARBARA [a shade kindlier, if possible] It's no use, Bill. She's got another bloke. BILL. Wot! BARBARA. One of her own converts. He fell in love with her when he saw her with her soul saved, and her face clean, and her hair washed. BILL [surprised] Wottud she wash it for, the carroty slut? It's red. BARBARA. It's quite lovely now, because she wears a new look in her eyes with it. It's a pity you're too late. The new bloke has put your nose out of joint, Bill. BILL. I'll put his nose out o joint for him. Not that I care a curse for her, mind that. But I'll teach her to drop me as if I was dirt. And I'll teach him to meddle with my Judy. Wots iz bleedin name? BARBARA. Sergeant Todger Fairmile. SHIRLEY [rising with grim joy] I'll go with him, miss. I want to see them two meet. I'll take him to the infirmary when it's over. BILL [to Shirley, with undissembled misgiving] Is that im you was speakin on? SHIRLEY. That's him. BILL. Im that wrastled in the music all? SHIRLEY. The competitions at the National Sportin Club was worth nigh a hundred a year to him. He's gev em up now for religion; so he's a bit fresh for want of the exercise he was accustomed to. He'll be glad to see you. Come along. BILL. Wots is weight? SHIRLEY. Thirteen four. [Bill's last hope expires]. BARBARA. Go and talk to him, Bill. He'll convert you. SHIRLEY. He'll convert your head into a mashed potato. BILL [sullenly] I ain't afraid of him. I ain't afraid of ennybody. But he can lick me. She's done me. [He sits down moodily on the edge of the horse trough]. SHIRLEY. You ain't goin. I thought not. [He resumes his seat]. BARBARA [calling] Jenny! JENNY [appearing at the shelter door with a plaster on the corner of her mouth] Yes, Major. BARBARA. Send Rummy Mitchens out to clear away here. JENNY. I think she's afraid.