SCENE I

_The kitchen of a miner's small cottage. On the left is the fireplace, with a deep, full red fire. At the back is a white-curtained window, and beside it the outer door of the room. On the right, two white wooden stairs intrude into the kitchen below the closed stair foot door. On the left, another door._

_The room is furnished with a chintz-backed sofa under the window, a glass-knobbed painted dresser on the right, and in the centre, toward the fire, a table with a red and blue check tablecloth. On one side of the hearth is a wooden rocking-chair, on the other an armchair of round staves. An unlighted copper-shaded lamp hangs from the raftered ceiling. It is dark twilight, with the room full of warm fireglow. A woman enters from the outer door. As she leaves the door open behind her, the colliery rail can be seen not far from the threshold, and, away back, the headstocks of a pit._

_The woman is tall and voluptuously built. She carries a basket heaped full of washing, which she has just taken from the clotheslines outside. Setting down the basket heavily, she feels among the clothes. She lifts out a white heap of sheets and other linen, setting it on the table; then she takes a woollen shirt in her hand._

MRS. HOLROYD (_aloud, to herself_)

You know they're not dry even now, though it's been as fine as it has. (_She spreads the shirt on the back of her rocking-chair, which she turns to the fire_)

VOICE (_calling from outside_)

Well, have you got them dry?

[_Mrs. Holroyd starts up, turns and flings her hand in the direction of the open door, where appears a man in blue overalls, swarfed and greased. He carries a dinner-basket._

MRS. HOLROYD

You--you--I don't know what to call you! The idea of shouting at me like that--like the Evil One out of the darkness!

BLACKMORE

I ought to have remembered your tender nerves. Shall I come in?

MRS. HOLROYD

No--not for your impudence. But you're late, aren't you?

BLACKMORE

It's only just gone six. We electricians, you know, we're the gentlemen on a mine: ours is gentlemen's work. But I'll bet Charles Holroyd was home before four.

MRS. HOLROYD (_bitterly_)

Ay, and gone again before five.

BLACKMORE

But mine's a lad's job, and I do nothing!--Where's he gone?

MRS. HOLROYD (_contemptuously_)

Dunno! He'd got a game on somewhere--toffed himself up to the nines, and skedaddled off as brisk as a turkey-cock. (_She smirks in front of the mirror hanging on the chimney-piece, in imitation of a man brushing his hair and moustache and admiring himself_)

BLACKMORE

Though turkey-cocks aren't brisk as a rule. Children playing?

MRS. HOLROYD (_recovering herself, coldly_)

Yes. And they ought to be in. (_She continues placing the flannel garments before the fire, on the fender and on chair-backs, till the stove is hedged in with a steaming fence; then she takes a sheet in a bundle from the table, and going up to Blackmore, who stands watching her, says_) Here, take hold, and help me fold it.

BLACKMORE

I shall swarf it up.

MRS. HOLROYD (_snatching back the sheet_)

Oh, you're as tiresome as everybody else.

BLACKMORE (_putting down his basket and moving to door on right_)

Well, I can soon wash my hands.

MRS. HOLROYD (_ceasing to flap and fold pillowcases_)

That roller-towel's ever so dirty. I'll get you another. (_She goes to a drawer in the dresser, and then back toward the scullery, where is a sound of water_)

BLACKMORE

Why, bless my life, I'm a lot dirtier than the towel. I don't want another.

MRS. HOLROYD (_going into the scullery_)

Here you are.

BLACKMORE (_softly, now she is near him_)

Why did you trouble now? Pride, you know, pride, nothing else.

MRS. HOLROYD (_also playful_)

It's nothing but decency.

BLACKMORE (_softly_)

Pride, pride, pride!

[_A child of eight suddenly appears in the doorway._

JACK

Oo, how dark!

MRS. HOLROYD (_hurrying agitated into the kitchen_)

Why, where have you been--what have you been doing now?

JACK (SURPRISED)

Why--I've only been out to play.

MRS. HOLROYD (_still sharply_)

And where's Minnie?

[_A little girl of six appears by the door._

MINNIE

I'm here, mam, and what do you think--?

MRS. HOLROYD (_softening, as she recovers equanimity_)

Well, and what should I think?

JACK

Oh, yes, mam--you know my father--?

MRS. HOLROYD (_ironically_)

I should hope so.

MINNIE

We saw him dancing, mam, with a paper bonnet.

MRS. HOLROYD

What--?

JACK

There's some women at "New Inn," what's come from Nottingham--

MINNIE

An' he's dancin' with the pink one.

JACK

Shut up our Minnie. An' they've got paper bonnets on--

MINNIE

All colors, mam!

JACK (_getting angry_)

Shut up our Minnie! An' my dad's dancing with her.

MINNIE

With the pink-bonnet one, mam.

JACK

Up in the club-room over the bar.

MINNIE

An' she's a lot littler than him, mam.

JACK (_piteously_)

Shut up our Minnie--An' you can see 'em go past the window, 'cause there isn't no curtains up, an' my father's got the pink bonnet one--

MINNIE

An' there's a piano, mam--

JACK

An' lots of folks outside watchin', lookin' at my dad! He can dance, can't he, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD (_she has been lighting the lamp, and holds the lamp-glass_)

And who else is there?

MINNIE

Some more men--an' _all_ the women with paper bonnets on.

JACK

There's about ten, I should think, an' they say they came in a brake from Nottingham.

[_Mrs. Holroyd, trying to replace the lamp-glass over the flame, lets it drop on the floor with a smash._

JACK

There, now--now we 'll have to have a candle.

BLACKMORE (_appearing in the scullery doorway with the towel_) What's that--the lamp-glass?

JACK

I never knowed Mr. Blackmore was here.

BLACKMORE (_to Mrs. Holroyd_)

Have you got another?

MRS. HOLROYD

No. (_There is silence for a moment_) We can manage with a candle for to-night.

BLACKMORE (_stepping forward and blowing out the smoky flame_) I'll see if I can't get you one from the pit. I shan't be a minute.

MRS. HOLROYD

Don't--don't bother--I don't want you to.

[_He, however, unscrews the burner and goes._

MINNIE

Did Mr. Blackmore come for tea, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD

No; he's had no tea.

JACK

I bet he's hungry. Can I have some bread?

MRS. HOLROYD (_she stands a lighted candle on the table_) Yes, and you can get your boots off to go to bed.

JACK

It's not seven o'clock yet.

MRS. HOLROYD

It doesn't matter.

MINNIE

What do they wear paper bonnets for, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD

Because they're brazen hussies.

JACK

I saw them having a glass of beer.

MRS. HOLROYD

A nice crew!

JACK

They say they are old pals of Mrs. Meakins. You could hear her screaming o' laughin', an' my dad says: "He-ah, missis--here--a dog's-nose for the Dachess--hopin' it'll smell samthing"--What's a dog's-nose?

MRS. HOLROYD (_giving him a piece of bread and butter_)

Don't ask me, child. How should I know?

MINNIE

Would she eat it, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD

Eat what?

MINNIE

Her in the pink bonnet--eat the dog's nose?

MRS. HOLROYD

No, of course not. How should I know what a dog's-nose is?

JACK

I bet he'll never go to work to-morrow, mother--will he?

MRS. HOLROYD

Goodness knows. I'm sick of it--disgracing me. There'll be the whole place cackling _this_ now. They've no sooner finished about him getting taken up for fighting than they begin on this. But I'll put a stop to it some road or other. It's not going on, if I know it: it isn't.

[_She stops, hearing footsteps, and Blackmore enters._

BLACKMORE

Here we are then--got one all right.

MINNIE

Did they give it you, Mr. Blackmore?

BLACKMORE

No, I took it.

[_He screws on the burner and proceeds to light the lamp. He is a tall, slender, mobile man of twenty-seven, brown-haired, dressed in blue overalls. Jack Holroyd is a big, dark, ruddy, lusty lad. Minnie is also big, but fair._

MINNIE

What do you wear blue trousers for, Mr. Blackmore?

BLACKMORE

They're to keep my other trousers from getting greasy.

MINNIE

Why don't you wear pit-breeches, like dad's?

JACK

'Cause he's a 'lectrician. Could you make me a little injun what would make electric light?

BLACKMORE

I will, some day.

JACK

When?

MINNIE

Why don't you come an' live here?

BLACKMORE (_looking swiftly at Mrs. Holroyd_)

Nay, you've got your own dad to live here.

MINNIE (_plaintively_)

Well, you could come as well. Dad shouts when we've gone to bed, an' thumps the table. He wouldn't if you was here.

JACK

He dursn't--

MRS. HOLROYD

Be quiet now, be quiet. Here, Mr. Blackmore. (_She again gives him the sheet to fold_)

BLACKMORE

Your hands _are_ cold.

MRS. HOLROYD

Are they?--I didn't know.

[_Blackmore puts his hand on hers._

MRS. HOLROYD (_confusedly, looking aside_)

You must want your tea.

BLACKMORE

I'm in no hurry.

MRS. HOLROYD

Selvidge to selvidge. You'll be quite a domestic man, if you go on.

BLACKMORE

Ay.

[_They fold the two sheets._

BLACKMORE

They are white, your sheets!

MRS. HOLROYD

But look at the smuts on them--look! This vile hole! I'd never have come to live here, in all the thick of the pit-grime, and lonely, if it hadn't been for him, so that he shouldn't call in a public-house on his road home from work. And now he slinks past on the other side of the railway, and goes down to the New Inn instead of coming in for his dinner. I might as well have stopped in Bestwood.

BLACKMORE

Though I rather like this little place, standing by itself.

MRS. HOLROYD

Jack, can you go and take the stockings in for me? They're on the line just below the pigsty. The prop's near the apple-tree--mind it. Minnie, you take the peg-basket.

MINNIE

Will there be any rats, mam?

MRS. HOLROYD

Rats--no. They'll be frightened when they hear you, if there are.

[_The children go out._

BLACKMORE

Poor little beggars!

MRS. HOLROYD

Do you know, this place is fairly alive with rats. They run up that dirty vine in front of the house--I'm always at him to cut it down--and you can hear them at night overhead like a regiment of soldiers tramping. Really, you know, I _hate_ them.

BLACKMORE

Well--a rat is a nasty thing!

MRS. HOLROYD

But I s'll get used to them. I'd give anything to be out of this place.

BLACKMORE

It _is_ rotten, when you're tied to a life you don't like. But I should miss it if you weren't here. When I'm coming down the line to the pit in the morning--it's nearly dark at seven now--I watch the firelight in here--Sometimes I put my hand on the wall outside where the chimney runs up to feel it warm--There isn't much in Bestwood, is there?

MRS. HOLROYD

There's less than nothing if you can't be like the rest of them--as common as they're 'made.

BLACKMORE

It's a fact--particularly for a woman--But this place is cosy--God love me, I'm sick of lodgings.

MRS. HOLROYD

You'll have to get married--I'm sure there are plenty of nice girls about.

BLACKMORE

Are there? I never see 'em. (_He laughs_)

MRS. HOLROYD

Oh, come, you can't say that.

BLACKMORE

I've not seen a single girl--an unmarried girl--that I should want for more than a fortnight--not one.

MRS. HOLROYD

Perhaps you're very particular.

[_She puts her two palms on the table and leans back. He draws near to her, dropping his head._

BLACKMORE

Look here!

[_He has put his hand on the table near hers._

MRS. HOLROYD

Yes, I know you've got nice hands--but you needn't be vain of them.

BLACKMORE

No--it's not that--But don't they seem--(_he glances swiftly at her; she turns her head aside; he laughs nervously_)--they sort of go well with one another. (_He laughs again_)

MRS. HOLROYD

They _do_, rather--

[_They stand still, near one another, with bent heads, for a moment. Suddenly she starts up and draws her hand away._

BLACKMORE

Why--what is it?

[_She does not answer. The children come in--Jack with an armful of stockings, Minnie with the basket of pegs._

JACK

I believe it's freezing, mother.

MINNIE

Mr. Blackmore, could you shoot a rat an' hit it?

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