CRILLY
Yes, yes.  I think that Scollard could make a place for himself.

ALBERT
The old man won’t be anxious to retire.

MRS. CRILLY
Why shouldn’t he retire when his time is up?

ALBERT
Well, here he is what’s called a potentate.  He won’t care to
come down and live over Crilly’s shop.

MRS. CRILLY
And where else would he live in the name of God?

ALBERT
He won’t want to live with our crowd.

MRS. CRILLY What crowd?  The boys can be sent to school, you’ll be on your situation, and Anna will be away. (She seats herself in the armchair) I don’t know what Albert means when he says that the Master would not be content to live with us.  It was always settled that he would come to us when his service was over.

Albert, who has been going over the books, has met something that surprises him.  He draws Crilly to the desk.  The two go over the papers, puzzled and excited.  Anna Crilly enters from corridor.  She is a handsome girl of about nineteen or twenty, with a rich complexion dark hair and eyes.  She is well dressed, and wears a cap of dark fur.  She stands at the stove, behind her mother, holding her hands over the stove.  Mrs. Crilly watches the pair at the desk.

MRS. CRILLY
We can’t think of allowing a pension of fifty pounds a
year to go out of our house.  Where will we get money to send the
boys to school?

ANNA
Mother.  Grandfather is going to live away from us.

MRS. CRILLY
Why do you repeat what Albert says?

ANNA
I didn’t hear Albert say anything.

MRS. CRILLY
Then, what are you talking about?

ANNA Grandfather goes to Martin’s cottage nearly every evening, and stays there for hours.  They’ll be leaving the place in a year or two, and Grandfather was saying that he would take the cottage when he retired from the Workhouse.

MRS. CRILLY
When did you hear this?

ANNA
This evening.  Delia Martin told me.

MRS. CRILLY
And that’s the reason why he has kept away from us.  He
goes to strangers, and leaves us in black ignorance of his thought.

  Crilly and Albert are busy at desk.

CRILLY
Well, damn it all—­

ALBERT
Here’s the voucher.

CRILLY
God!  I don’t know what’s to be done.

ALBERT
It’s a matter of fifty tons.

Albert turns round deliberately, leaving his father going through the papers in desperate eagerness.  Albert takes a cigarette from behind his ear, takes a match-box from his waistcoat pocket, and strikes a light.  He goes towards door of apartments.  Mrs. Crilly rises.

ALBERT
(his hand on the handle of door) Well so-long.

MRS. CRILLY
Where are you going?

ALBERT
I’m leaving you to talk it over with the old man.