[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.