GRANDMOTHER (rocking herself and her daughter-in-law—both weeping) Oh, God have mercy on us! Oh, God have mercy on us! Some stuff fell on him. An' he'd not even time to cry for mercy; oh, God spare him! Oh, what shall we do for comfort? To be taken straight out of his sins. Oh, Lizzie, to think he should be cut off in his wickedness! He's been a bad lad of late, he has, poor lamb. He's gone very wrong of late years, poor dear lamb, very wrong. Oh, Lizzie, think what's to become of him now! If only you'd have tried to be different with him.
MRS. HOLROYD (moaning)
Don't, mother, don't. I can't bear it.
BLACKMORE (cold and clear)
Where will you have him laid? The men will be here in a moment.
MRS. HOLROYD (starting up)
They can carry him up to bed—
BLACKMORE
It's no good taking him upstairs. You'll have to wash him and lay him out.
MRS. HOLROYD (startled)