The faint sobbing of a child comes in.] What's that?
[They listen.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] I can't stand that crying. I must send
Marlow to stop it. My nerves are all on edge. [She rings the
bell.]
BARTHWICK. I'll shut the window; you'll hear nothing. [He shuts
the window. There is silence.]
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Sharply.] That's no good! It's on my nerves.
Nothing upsets me like a child's crying.
[MARLOW comes in.]
What's that noise of crying, Marlow? It sounds like a child.
BARTHWICK. It is a child. I can see it against the railings.
MARLOW. [Opening the window, and looking out quietly.] It's Mrs.
Jones's little boy, ma'am; he came here after his mother.
MRS. BARTHWICK. [Moving quickly to the window.] Poor little chap!
John, we ought n't to go on with this!
BARTHWICK. [Sitting heavily in a chair.] Ah! but it's out of our
hands!
[MRS. BARTHWICK turns her back to the window. There is an
expression of distress on hey face. She stands motionless,
compressing her lips. The crying begins again. BARTHWICK
coveys his ears with his hands, and MARLOW shuts the window.
The crying ceases.
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