Aunt. What is the matter with him, Horace?
Horace. Half an arm burnt away.
Minnie. These tiny tots! Would a little wine help them or you?
First Working Woman. You set us hoping, Miss, so you do. We ought to be thankful for our lives and our babies. Some didn’t get out. I don’t know how many.
Minnie. (Giving wine) Try and not worry. We’ll do what we can.
Horace. Yes, cheer up, folk! We’ll see you on your feet again.
First Working Man. Thank you, Mister. That’s a kind word, no mistake.
Horace. No doctor yet? I’ll go myself. Where is our doctor? (He lifts his fur cap off a child’s head and gets his scarf from another.)
Minnie. Dr. Chapman is only a few doors down on the right. You’ll know the house by the red light. (Horace is going R. A knock on front door heard.) Perhaps that is the doctor.
(Horace goes out and brings Dr. Chapman in R.)