JOE. How much is there in it?
MARY. I haven't looked, Joe.
JOE. [_Wondering._] You haven't looked?
MARY. No; I didn't dare.
JOE. [_Sorrowfully._] I didn't think we'd come to this, Mary.
MARY. [_Desperately._] We've got to do something. Before we can earn any
money at making matchboxes we'll have to spend some weeks learning. And
you've not had a decent meal for a month--nor have I. If there's money
inside this purse you can get some clothes--and for me too--I need them!
It's not as though the old lady would miss it--she's rich enough--her
cloak was real sable--and no one can find us out--they can't tell one
piece of money from the other. It's heavy, Joe--I think there's a lot
inside.
JOE. [_Weighing it mechanically._] Yes--it's heavy--
MARY. [_Eagerly._] Open it, Joe.
JOE. [_Turning to her again._] Why didn't you?
MARY. I just thought I'd wait--I'd an idea something might have happened;
that some one might have stopped you in the street, some one with a
heart--and that he'd have come in with you to-night--and seen us--seen
Minnie--and said--"Well, here's money--I'll put you on your legs
again"--And then we'd have given the purse back, Joe.
JOE. [_As he still mechanically balances it in his hand._] Yes.
MARY. Can't go on like this, can we? You'll cough all night again, as you
did yesterday--and the stuff they gave you at the Dispensary's no good. If
you had clothes, you might get some sort of a job perhaps--you know you
had to give up trying because you were so shabby.
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