My doxy with me. By crikes! I’m fleyed to face
The road again, alone. You’ll come ...

JUDITH:
I cannot.
How could I leave ...

JIM:
Then I’ll be taken here:
You’ll be to blame.

JUDITH:
But, Jim, how could I leave ...

JIM:
The sooner it’s over, the better I’ll be pleased.

JUDITH:
You mustn’t stop: and yet, I cannot go.
How could I leave the bairn?

JIM:
The brat’s asleep.

JUDITH:
It won’t sleep long.

JIM:
Its mammy’ll soon be home.