ROBERTS. Ah! So they say! They can remember the women when their own bellies speak! The women never stop them from the drink; but from a little suffering to themselves in a sacred cause, the women stop them fast enough.
MRS. ROBERTS. But think o' the children, David.
ROBERTS. Ah! If they will go breeding themselves for slaves, without a thought o' the future o' them they breed——
MRS. ROBERTS. [Gasping.] That's enough, David; don't begin to talk of that—I won't—I can't——
ROBERTS. [Staring at her.] Now, now, my girl!
MRS. ROBERTS. [Breathlessly.] No, no, David—I won't!
ROBERTS. There, there! Come, come! That's right! [Bitterly.] Not one penny will they put by for a day like this. Not they! Hand to mouth—Gad!—I know them! They've broke my heart. There was no holdin' them at the start, but now the pinch 'as come.
MRS. ROBERTS. How can you expect it, David? They're not made of iron.
ROBERTS. Expect it? Wouldn't I expect what I would do meself? Wouldn't I starve an' rot rather than give in? What one man can do, another can.
MRS. ROBERTS. And the women?