MRS. CRILLY
It's a dead sure loss. I don't know what we are to do,
Anna.
SCOLLARD
This is very bad, Mrs. Crilly.
Crofton Crilly comes back from shop. He brings in a glass of whisky.
He puts whisky on chimney-piece.
MRS. CRILLY The bank has taken over three hundred pounds from our account.
CRILLY
Perhaps Scollard—
SCOLLARD
What were you saying, Mr. Crilly?
CRILLY Oh, I was just thinking—about a bill you know—If some one would go security for us at the bank—
ANNA
Father, what are you saying?
MRS. CRILLY It's unnecessary to talk like that. In spite of your foolishness, we still have a balance at the bank.
ANNA
My portion comes to me from my grandmother.