I've killed him, that is all. BLACKMORE No, you haven't. MRS. HOLROYD Yes, I have. BLACKMORE _We_ couldn't help it. MRS. HOLROYD If he hadn't felt, if he hadn't _known_, he wouldn't have stayed, he'd have come up with the rest. BLACKMORE Well, and even if it was so, we can't help it now. MRS. HOLROYD But we've killed him. BLACKMORE Ah, I'm tired-- MRS. HOLROYD Yes. BLACKMORE (_after a pause_) Shall I stay? MRS. HOLROYD I--I daren't be alone with him. BLACKMORE (_sitting down_) No. MRS. HOLROYD I don't love him. Now he's dead. I don't love him. He lies like he did yesterday. BLACKMORE I suppose, being dead--I don't know-- MRS. HOLROYD I think you'd better go. BLACKMORE (_rising_) Tell me. MRS. HOLROYD Yes. BLACKMORE You want me to go. MRS. HOLROYD No--but _do_ go. (_They look at each other_) BLACKMORE I shall come to-morrow (_he goes out_) [_Mrs. Holroyd stands very stiff, as if afraid of the dead man. Then she stoops down and begins to sponge his face, talking to him._ MRS. HOLROYD My dear, my dear--oh, my dear! I can't bear it, my dear--you shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have done it. Oh--I can't bear it, for you. Why couldn't I do anything for you? The children's father--my dear--I wasn't good to you. But you shouldn't have done this to me. Oh, dear, oh, dear! Did it hurt you?--oh, my dear, it hurt you--oh, I can't bear it. No, things aren't fair--we went wrong, my dear. I never loved you enough--I never did. What a shame for you! It was a shame. But you didn't--you didn't try. I _would_ have loved you--I tried hard. What a shame for you! It was so cruel for you. You couldn't help it--my dear, my dear. You couldn't help it. And I can't do anything for you, and it hurt you so! (_She weeps bitterly, so her tears fall on the dead man's face; suddenly she kisses him_) My dear, my dear, what can I do for you, what can I? (_She weeps as she wipes his face gently_) GRANDMOTHER (_enters, puts a bundle on the table, takes off her shawl_) You're not all by yourself? MRS. HOLROYD Yes. GRANDMOTHER It's a wonder you're not frightened. You've not washed his face. MRS. HOLROYD Why should I be afraid of him--now, mother? GRANDMOTHER (_weeping_) Ay, poor lamb, I can't think as ever you could have had reason to be frightened of him, Lizzie. MRS. HOLROYD Yes--once-- GRANDMOTHER Oh, but he went wrong. An' he was a taking lad, as iver was. (_She cries pitifully_) And when I waked his father up and told him, he sat up in bed staring over his whiskers, and said should he come up? But when I'd managed to find the shirt and things, he was still in bed. You don't know what it is to live with a man that has no feeling. But you've washed him, Lizzie? MRS. HOLROYD I was finishing his head. GRANDMOTHER Let me do it, child. MRS. HOLROYD I'll finish that. GRANDMOTHER