_(Mrs. Eppingwell turns involuntarily to look. Freda pauses on entering, starts as though to retreat at sight of the crowd, then stiffens herself, face and body, to meet it, and proceeds to brush snow from moccasins. There is silence in store. Then a perturbation amongst miners about stove, men craning their heads over one another's shoulders to look at Freda. The clerks look at her. Everybody looks at her.)_ _(Mrs. McFee turns up her nose several degrees, and, plainly advertising a highly moral rage, walks over to Mrs. Eppingwell.)_ MRS. McFEE _(To Mrs. Eppingwell, but glaring at Freda.)_ It's my way of thinking that it is high time for decent bodies to be going. _(Sitka Charley glares angrily at Mrs. McFee.)_ MRS. EPPINGWELL _(In low voice.)_ Hush. It is a public place, and she has as much right here as you or I. Don't insult the poor woman. MRS. McFEE _(Snorting.)_ In my way of thinking the insult's the other way around. Come you, Mrs. Eppingwell, we must go. The verra air is contameenated. MRS. EPPINGWELL _(Pleadingly.)_ Do please restrain yourself, Mrs. McFee. Don't make a scene. MRS. MCFEE _(Raising her voice.)_ I'll no restrain myself, and I'll no wait for you if you see proper no to come now. The hussy! _(Mrs. McFee, nose high in the air, turns to make exit at right. Freda has just finished brushing snow, and has risen erect. Mrs. McFee, passing her to go out the door, sniffs audibly and draws aside her skirt. Freda makes no movement, though her lips tighten. Exit Mrs. McFee. Freda tries to hang up wisp-broom, but her hand trembles, misses peg, and wisp-broom falls to floor. She picks it up and this time hangs it properly. Turns and goes to right rear to counter, where clerk waits upon her.)_ SITKA CHARLEY _(Glaring after Mrs. McFee, angrily)_. That womans no like Freda. What for? MRS. EPPINGWELL _(Speaking gently.)_ No women like Freda. SITKA CHARLEY _(Stunned, slowly.)_ You no like Freda? MRS. EPPINGWELL _(More gently even than before.)_ No, Charley, I do not like Freda. SITKA CHARLEY _(Showing anger.)_ What for you no like Freda? MRS. EPPINGWELL I cannot explain. You would not understand. SITKA CHARLEY _(More anger.)_ Me Sitka Charley. Me understand. What for you no like Freda? _(Captain Eppingwell enters from right.)_ MRS. EPPINGWELL I-- _(Catching sight of Capt. Eppingwell.)_ There is Captain Eppingwell now. _(Capt. Eppingwell brushes moccasins quickly, and goes immediately to Mrs. Eppingwell. Sitka Charley, still angry, joins group about stove.)_ CAPT. EPPINGWELL Early, as usual, Maud. MRS. EPPINGWELL No, merely on time. It is you who are late. Capt. Eppingwell Impossible! _(Looks at his watch and smiles triumphantly.)_ I knew it. On time to the tick of the second. MRS. EPPINGWELL _(Smiling.)_ Not by Dawson time. CAPT. EPPINGWELL Oh! of course. I haven't changed my watch. I'm still going by sun-time. Sorry. MRS. EPPINGWELL _(Smiling.)_