JOE. [With a startled glance at her.] The end?
MARY. There's no room for us in this world—
JOE. If I'd taken that money—
MARY. It's too late for that now. And I'm glad you didn't—yes, I am—I'm glad. We'll go before God clean-handed. And we'll say to Him we didn't steal, or do anything He didn't want us too. And we'll tell Him we've died because people wouldn't allow us to live.
JOE. [With a shudder.] No. Not that—we'll wait, Mary. Don't speak of that.
MARY. [Wistfully.] You've thought of it too?
JOE. Thought of it! Don't, Mary, don't! It's bad enough, in the night, when I lie there and think of to-morrow! Something will happen—it must.
MARY. What? We haven't a friend in the world.
JOE. I may meet some one I used to know.
MARY. You've met them before—they always refuse—