JIM:
True, egox!

JUDITH:
Few, good or bad. But Ruth has everything--
A home, a steady husband, and her boys.
There never were such boys.

JIM:
A pretty picture:
It takes my fancy: and the dear old grannie,
Why do you leave her out? And there’s a corner
For granddad in it, surely--an armchair
On the other side of the ingle, with a pipe
And packet of twist, and a pot of nappy beer,
Hot-fettled four-ale, handy on the hob?
Ay: there’s the chair: I’d best secure it now.

(_As he seats himself, with his back to the door, the head of BELL
HAGGARD, in her orange-coloured kerchief, peeps round the jamb: then
slowly withdraws, unseen of JIM or JUDITH._)

JIM:
Fetch up the swipes and shag. I can reach the cutty ...

(_He takes down MICHAEL’s pipe from the mantel-shelf; and sticks it
between his teeth: but JUDITH snatches at it, breaking the stem, and
flings the bowl on the fire._)

JUDITH: