MRS HALE: Not having children makes less work--but it makes a quiet house, and Wright out to work all day, and no company when he did come in. Did you know John Wright, Mrs Peters? MRS PETERS: Not to know him; I've seen him in town. They say he was a good man. MRS HALE: Yes--good; he didn't drink, and kept his word as well as most, I guess, and paid his debts. But he was a hard man, Mrs Peters. Just to pass the time of day with him--(_shivers_) Like a raw wind that gets to the bone, (_pauses, her eye falling on the cage_) I should think she would 'a wanted a bird. But what do you suppose went with it? MRS PETERS: I don't know, unless it got sick and died. (_She reaches over and swings the broken door, swings it again, both women watch it_.) MRS HALE: You weren't raised round here, were you? (_MRS PETERS shakes her head_) You didn't know--her? MRS PETERS: Not till they brought her yesterday. MRS HALE: She--come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird herself--real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and--fluttery. How--she--did--change. (_silence; then as if struck by a happy thought and relieved to get back to everyday things_) Tell you what, Mrs Peters, why don't you take the quilt in with you? It might take up her mind. MRS PETERS: Why, I think that's a real nice idea, Mrs Hale. There couldn't possibly be any objection to it, could there? Now, just what would I take? I wonder if her patches are in here--and her things. (_They look in the sewing basket_.) MRS HALE: Here's some red. I expect this has got sewing things in it. (_brings out a fancy box_) What a pretty box. Looks like something somebody would give you. Maybe her scissors are in here. (_Opens box. Suddenly puts her hand to her nose_) Why--(MRS PETERS _bends nearer, then turns her face away_) There's something wrapped up in this piece of silk. MRS PETERS: Why, this isn't her scissors. MRS HALE: (_lifting the silk_) Oh, Mrs Peters--it's-- (MRS PETERS _bends closer_.) MRS PETERS: It's the bird. MRS HALE: (_jumping up_) But, Mrs Peters--look at it! It's neck! Look at its neck! It's all--other side _to_. MRS PETERS: Somebody--wrung--its--neck. (_Their eyes meet. A look of growing comprehension, of horror. Steps are heard outside_. MRS HALE _slips box under quilt pieces, and sinks into her chair. Enter_ SHERIFF _and_ COUNTY ATTORNEY. MRS PETERS _rises_.) COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_as one turning from serious things to little pleasantries_) Well ladies, have you decided whether she was going to quilt it or knot it? MRS PETERS: We think she was going to--knot it. COUNTY ATTORNEY: Well, that's interesting, I'm sure. (_seeing the birdcage_) Has the bird flown? MRS HALE: (_putting more quilt pieces over the box_) We think the--cat got it. COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_preoccupied_) Is there a cat? (MRS HALE _glances in a quick covert way at_ MRS PETERS.) MRS PETERS: Well, not now. They're superstitious, you know. They leave.