MRS. HOLROYD (_she stands a lighted candle on the table_) Yes, and you can get your boots off to go to bed. JACK It's not seven o'clock yet. MRS. HOLROYD It doesn't matter. MINNIE What do they wear paper bonnets for, mam? MRS. HOLROYD Because they're brazen hussies. JACK I saw them having a glass of beer. MRS. HOLROYD A nice crew! JACK They say they are old pals of Mrs. Meakins. You could hear her screaming o' laughin', an' my dad says: "He-ah, missis--here--a dog's-nose for the Dachess--hopin' it'll smell samthing"--What's a dog's-nose? MRS. HOLROYD (_giving him a piece of bread and butter_) Don't ask me, child. How should I know? MINNIE Would she eat it, mam? MRS. HOLROYD Eat what? MINNIE Her in the pink bonnet--eat the dog's nose? MRS. HOLROYD No, of course not. How should I know what a dog's-nose is? JACK I bet he'll never go to work to-morrow, mother--will he? MRS. HOLROYD Goodness knows. I'm sick of it--disgracing me. There'll be the whole place cackling _this_ now. They've no sooner finished about him getting taken up for fighting than they begin on this. But I'll put a stop to it some road or other. It's not going on, if I know it: it isn't. [_She stops, hearing footsteps, and Blackmore enters._ BLACKMORE Here we are then--got one all right. MINNIE Did they give it you, Mr. Blackmore? BLACKMORE No, I took it. [_He screws on the burner and proceeds to light the lamp. He is a tall, slender, mobile man of twenty-seven, brown-haired, dressed in blue overalls. Jack Holroyd is a big, dark, ruddy, lusty lad. Minnie is also big, but fair._ MINNIE What do you wear blue trousers for, Mr. Blackmore? BLACKMORE They're to keep my other trousers from getting greasy. MINNIE Why don't you wear pit-breeches, like dad's? JACK 'Cause he's a 'lectrician. Could you make me a little injun what would make electric light? BLACKMORE I will, some day. JACK When? MINNIE Why don't you come an' live here? BLACKMORE (_looking swiftly at Mrs. Holroyd_) Nay, you've got your own dad to live here. MINNIE (_plaintively_) Well, you could come as well. Dad shouts when we've gone to bed, an' thumps the table. He wouldn't if you was here. JACK He dursn't-- MRS. HOLROYD Be quiet now, be quiet. Here, Mr. Blackmore. (_She again gives him the sheet to fold_) BLACKMORE Your hands _are_ cold. MRS. HOLROYD Are they?--I didn't know. [_Blackmore puts his hand on hers._ MRS. HOLROYD (_confusedly, looking aside_) You must want your tea. BLACKMORE I'm in no hurry. MRS. HOLROYD Selvidge to selvidge. You'll be quite a domestic man, if you go on. BLACKMORE Ay. [_They fold the two sheets._ BLACKMORE They are white, your sheets! MRS. HOLROYD