O'Cal. You've not got him to go out yet?
Mrs. G. Nor look like doing till he's carried out feet foremost. He says he'll never show his face in Midlandton again. I've done all the work. Getting the furniture out of store and everything. Peter didn't raise a hand.
O'Cal. You dropped lucky finding the old house empty.
Mrs. G. I don't know if I did. It reminds him. Won't take his food now. That's the latest. Not that I've much to give him. Heaven knows where it'll end. We with no money coming in and nearly every penny as we had gone to pay his debts in London and fetch us here. Workhouse next, I reckon.
O'Cal. (patting her shoulder encouragingly). Let you not be talking like that, Mrs. Garside. There's no call to despair. Peter's got to be roused.
Mrs. G. Haven't we tried and failed? If you fancy you know the way to do it I'll be obliged by your telling me.
O'Cal. Oh, we've not tried them all yet.
Mrs. G. (vigorously). Then for God's sake go up to him and try.
O'Cal. (without moving). Sure he's not himself at all.
Mrs. G. (rising, with more force in her voice). Denis O'Callagan, if you've a plan to rouse my poor boy I've told you to go upstairs and try it on him. If you've come to stand there like a log and tell me what I've known this week and more, there's my door, and the sooner you put your ugly face outside it the better you'll please me.