MRS. ROBERTS. I'm sorry for any one that gets old, M'm; it 's
dreadful to get old, and Mr. Anthony was such a fine old man, I
always used to think.
ENID. [Impulsively.] He always liked you, don't you remember? Look
here, Annie, what can I do? I do so want to know. You don't get
what you ought to have. [Going to the fire, she takes the kettle
off, and looks for coals.] And you're so naughty sending back the
soup and things.
MRS. ROBERTS. [With a faint smile.] Yes, M'm?
ENID. [Resentfully.] Why, you have n't even got coals?
MRS. ROBERTS. If you please, M'm, to put the kettle on again;
Roberts won't have long for his tea when he comes in. He's got to
meet the men at four.
ENID. [Putting the kettle on.] That means he'll lash them into a
fury again. Can't you stop his going, Annie?
[MRS. ROBERTS smiles ironically.]
Have you tried?
[A silence.]
Does he know how ill you are?
MRS. ROBERTS. It's only my weak 'eard, M'm.
ENID. You used to be so well when you were with us.
MRS. ROBERTS. [Stiffening.] Roberts is always good to me.
ENID. But you ought to have everything you want, and you have
nothing!
MRS. ROBERTS. [Appealingly.] They tell me I don't look like a dyin'
woman?
ENID.
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