BLACKMORE (_laughing_) Shoot the lot of 'em, like a wink. MRS. HOLROYD But you've had no tea. What an awful shame to keep you here! BLACKMORE Nay, I don't care. It never bothers me. MRS. HOLROYD Then you're different from most men. BLACKMORE All men aren't alike, you know. MRS. HOLROYD But do go and get some tea. MINNIE (_plaintively_) Can't you stop, Mr. Blackmore? BLACKMORE Why, Minnie? MINNIE So's we're not frightened. Yes, do. Will you? BLACKMORE Frightened of what? MINNIE 'Cause there's noises, an' rats,--an' perhaps dad'll come home and shout. BLACKMORE But he'd shout more if I was here. JACK He doesn't when my uncle John's here. So you stop, an' perhaps he won't. BLACKMORE Don't you like him to shout when you're in bed? [_They do not answer, but look seriously at him._ CURTAIN SCENE II _The same scene, two hours later. The clothes are folded in little piles on the table and the sofa. Mrs. Holroyd is folding a thick flannel undervest or singlet which her husband wears in the pit and which has just dried on the fender._ MRS. HOLROYD (_to herself_) Now thank goodness they're all dried. It's only nine o'clock, so he won't be in for another two hours, the nuisance. (_She sits on the sofa, letting her arms hang down in dejection. After a minute or two she jumps up, to begin rudely dropping the piles of washed clothes in the basket_) I don't care, I'm not going to let him have it all _his_ way--no! (_She weeps a little, fiercely, drying her eyes on the edge of her white apron_) Why should _I_ put up with it all?--_He_ can do what he likes. But I don't care, no, I don't-- [_She flings down the full clothes-basket, sits suddenly in the rocking-chair, and weeps. There is the sound of coarse, bursting laughter, in vain subdued, and a man's deep guffaws. Footsteps draw near. Suddenly the door opens, and a little, plump, pretty woman of thirty, in a close-fitting dress and a giddy, frilled bonnet of pink paper, stands perkily in the doorway. Mrs. Holroyd springs up: her small, sensitive nose is inflamed with weeping, her eyes are wet and flashing. She fronts the other woman._ CLARA (_with a pert smile and a jerk of the head_) Good evenin'! MRS. HOLROYD What do you want? CLARA (_she has a Yorkshire accent_) Oh, we've not come beggin'--this is a visit. [_She stuffs her handkerchief in front of her mouth in a little snorting burst of laughter. There is the sound of another woman behind going off into uncontrollable laughter, while a man guffaws._ MRS. HOLROYD (_after a moment of impotence--tragically_) What--! CLARA (_faltering slightly, affecting a polite tone_) We thought we'd just call-- [_She stuffs her handkerchief in front of her explosive laughter--the other woman shrieks again, beginning high, and running down the scale._ MRS. HOLROYD What do you mean?--What do you want here? CLARA (_she bites her lip_)