[Mrs. Holroyd, sobbing, goes, kneels at the miner's feet, and begins pulling off the great boots.
GRANDMOTHER
There's hardly a mark on him. Eh, what a man he is! I've had some fine sons, Lizzie, I've had some big men of sons.
MRS. HOLROYD
He was always a lot whiter than me. And he used to chaff me.
GRANDMOTHER
But his poor hands! I used to thank God for my children, but they're rods o' trouble, Lizzie, they are. Unfasten his belt, child. Me mun get his things off soon, or else we s'll have such a job.
[Mrs. Holroyd, having dragged off the boots, rises. She is weeping.
CURTAIN