JONES more slowly with a scuttle.
WHEELER. [Drawing the curtains.] That precious husband of yours
was round for you after you'd gone yesterday, Mrs. Jones. Wanted
your money for drink, I suppose. He hangs about the corner here
half the time. I saw him outside the "Goat and Bells" when I went
to the post last night. If I were you I would n't live with him. I
would n't live with a man that raised his hand to me. I wouldn't
put up with it. Why don't you take your children and leave him? If
you put up with 'im it'll only make him worse. I never can see why,
because a man's married you, he should knock you about.
MRS. JONES. [Slim, dark-eyed, and dark-haired; oval-faced, and with
a smooth, soft, even voice; her manner patient, her way of talking
quite impersonal; she wears a blue linen dress, and boots with
holes.] It was nearly two last night before he come home, and he
wasn't himself. He made me get up, and he knocked me about; he
didn't seem to know what he was saying or doing. Of course I would
leave him, but I'm really afraid of what he'd do to me. He 's such
a violent man when he's not himself.
WHEELER. Why don't you get him locked up? You'll never have any
peace until you get him locked up.
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