Jim entered his house, and she followed him till they came up into their room. Polly was giving the children their tea. They all started up as they saw their mother with her hair and clothes in disorder, blotches of dried blood on her face, and the long scratch-marks.
'Oh, mother,' said Polly, 'wot is the matter?'
''E's the matter.' she answered, pointing to her husband. 'It's through 'im I've got all this. Look at yer father, children; e's a father to be proud of, leavin' yer ter starve an' spendin' 'is week's money on a dirty little strumper.'
Jim felt easier now he had not got so many strange eyes on him.
'Now, look 'ere,' he said, 'I'm not goin' ter stand this much longer, so just you tike care.'
'I ain't frightened of yer. I know yer'd like ter kill me, but yer'll get strung up if you do.'
'Na, I won't kill yer, but if I 'ave any more of your sauce I'll do the next thing to it.'
'Touch me if yer dare,' she said, 'I'll 'ave the law on you. An' I shouldn't mind 'ow many month's 'ard you got.'
'Be quiet!' he said, and, closing his hand, gave her a heavy blow in the chest that made her stagger.