ELLEN
A dream’t the same dream last nicht as when his faither went.
POLLY
In the midst o’ life we are in death. There’s no’ a truer word nor that.
ELLEN
No’ when ye live aff coal. There’s wimmen keepin’ hoose in the places the coal goes that pay fur their coal wi’ brass. We pay a sicht heavier fur it here. We pay wi’ the lives o’ men.
POLLY
But it’s a comfort tae think he’ll no’ be burnt. A cannae staun’ a corp that’s burnt.
ELLEN
Aye, better broken than burnt.