NANCY. I’m glad I married that sort of man.
BROXOPP. And now he’s let you down.
NANCY. There’ll be something left. We were just saying——
BROXOPP (shaking his head). There’s Jack to remember. We must give him his chance—he may be a genius—my son—(as an afterthought) your son—why not?
NANCY. Yes, dear.... If we only had five hundred a year, it wouldn’t be—I could make you comfortable—even four hundred——
(She is already adding up the butcher’s bills, and the baker’s bills, and the servant’s wages—only one servant ... when BROXOPP breaks in on her thoughts.)
BROXOPP. Nancy!
NANCY. Yes, Jim.
BROXOPP. I’m just over fifty.
NANCY. Yes, Jim.