[_He hesitates at the door--returns and sits down. There is silence in the room. Holroyd sits with his chin in his hand. Mrs. Holroyd listens. The footsteps and voices of the two women die out. Then she closes the door. Holroyd begins to unlace his boots._ HOLROYD (_ashamed yet defiant, withal anxious to apologize_) Wheer's my slippers? [_Mrs. Holroyd sits on the sofa with face averted and does not answer._ HOLROYD Dost hear? (_He pulls off his boots, noisily, and begins to hunt under the sofa_) I canna find the things. (_No answer_) Humph!--then I'll do be 'out 'em. (_He stumps about in his stocking feet; going into the scullery, he brings out the loaf of bread; he returns into the scullery_) Wheer's th' cheese? (_No answer--suddenly_) God blast it! (_He hobbles into the kitchen_) I've trod on that brokken basin, an' cut my foot open. (_Mrs. Holroyd refuses to take any notice. He sits down and looks at his sole--pulls off his stocking and looks again_) It's lamed me for life. (_Mrs. Holroyd glances at the wound_) Are 'na ter goin' ter get me öwt for it? MRS. HOLROYD Psh! HOLROYD Oh, a' right then. (_He hops to the dresser, opens a drawer, and pulls out a white rag; he is about to tear it_) MRS. HOLROYD (_snatching it from him_) Don't tear that! HOLROYD (_shouting_) Then what the deuce am I to do? (_Mrs. Holroyd sits stonily_) Oh, a' right then! (_He hops back to his chair, sits down, and begins to pull on his stocking_) A' right then--a' right then. (_In a fever of rage he begins pulling on his boots_) I'll go where I _can_ find a bit o' rag. MRS. HOLROYD Yes, that's what you want! All you want is an excuse to be off again--"a bit of rag"! HOLROYD (_shouting_) An' what man'd want to stop in wi' a woman sittin' as fow as a jackass, an' canna get a word from 'er edgeways. MRS. HOLROYD Don't expect me to speak to you after to-night's show. How dare you bring them to my house, how dare you? HOLROYD They've non hurt your house, have they? MRS. HOLROYD I wonder you dare to cross the doorstep. HOLROYD I s'll do what the deuce I like. They're as good as you are. MRS. HOLROYD (_stands speechless, staring at him; then low_) Don't you come near me again-- HOLROYD (_suddenly shouting, to get his courage up_) She's as good as you are, every bit of it. MRS. HOLROYD (_blazing_) Whatever I was and whatever I may be, don't you ever come near me again. HOLROYD What! I'll show thee. What's the hurt to you if a woman comes to the house? They're women as good as yourself, every whit of it. MRS. HOLROYD Say no more. _Go_ with them then, and don't come back. HOLROYD What! Yi, I will go, an' you s'll see. What! You think you're something, since your uncle left you that money, an' Blackymore puttin' you up to it. I can see your little game. I'm not as daft as you imagine. I'm no fool, I tell you. MRS. HOLROYD No, you're not. You're a drunken beast, that's all you are. HOLROYD