MRS. ROBERTS. I'm sorry for any one that gets old, M'm; it 's dreadful to get old, and Mr. Anthony was such a fine old man, I always used to think.
ENID. [Impulsively.] He always liked you, don't you remember? Look here, Annie, what can I do? I do so want to know. You don't get what you ought to have. [Going to the fire, she takes the kettle off, and looks for coals.] And you're so naughty sending back the soup and things.
MRS. ROBERTS. [With a faint smile.] Yes, M'm?
ENID. [Resentfully.] Why, you have n't even got coals?
MRS. ROBERTS. If you please, M'm, to put the kettle on again; Roberts won't have long for his tea when he comes in. He's got to meet the men at four.
ENID. [Putting the kettle on.] That means he'll lash them into a fury again. Can't you stop his going, Annie?
[MRS. ROBERTS smiles ironically.]
Have you tried?
[A silence.]
Does he know how ill you are?