Must we put on the handcuffs, boy?
Bar.
[Moaning.] Help me, Mother! You’ll never see me again! I shall drown in the dirty, stinking sea!
1st Policeman.
[Crossly.] Come, come! Let go of the door jamb! [Seizes his wrists.]
Bar.
[Clinging harder.] No! [Shrieking.] Cut off my hands! Oh God, Oh God, Oh God! [Crawls up against the wall, beside himself with terror.]
Kneir.
[Almost crying.] The boy is afraid——
1st Policeman.