It did 'er good, it did, made 'er feel
'erself that charitable, but I see 'er lookin' at the copper
standin' alongside o' me, for fear I should make off with 'er
bloomin' fat dog. [He sits on the edge of the bed and puts a boot
on. Then looking up.] What's in that head o' yours? [Almost
pathetically.] Carn't you speak for once?
[There is a knock, and MRS. SEDDON, the landlady, appears, an
anxious, harassed, shabby woman in working clothes.]
MRS. SEDDON. I thought I 'eard you come in, Mrs. Jones. I 've
spoke to my 'usband, but he says he really can't afford to wait
another day.
JONES. [With scowling jocularity.] Never you mind what your
'usband says, you go your own way like a proper independent woman.
Here, jenny, chuck her that.
[Producing a sovereign from his trousers pocket, he throws it
to his wife, who catches it in her apron with a gasp. JONES
resumes the lacing of his boots.]
MRS. JONES. [Rubbing the sovereign stealthily.] I'm very sorry
we're so late with it, and of course it's fourteen shillings, so if
you've got six that will be right.
[MRS. SEDDON takes the sovereign and fumbles for the change.]
JONES. [With his eyes fixed on his boots.
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