JOE. [_Completely overcome._] Oh, Mary, Mary!

MARY. It's not _your_ fault, dear--you've done what you could. Not _your_
fault they won't let you work--you've tried hard enough. And no woman ever
had a better husband than you've been to me. I love you, dear Joe. And
let's do it--let's make an end. And take Minnie with us.

JOE. [_Springing up._] Mary, I'll steal something to-morrow.

MARY. And they'd send you to prison. Besides, then God would be angry. Now
we can go to Him and need not be ashamed. Let us, dear Joe--oh, do let us!
I'm so tired!

JOE. No.

MARY. [_Sorrowfully._] You won't?

JOE. [_Doggedly._] No. We'll go to the workhouse.

MARY. You've seen them in there, haven't you?

JOE. Yes.

MARY. You've seen them standing at the window, staring at the world? And
they'd take you away from me.

JOE. That's better than--

MARY. [_Firmly._] I won't do it, Joe. I've been a good wife to you--I've
been a good mother: and I love you, though I'm ragged and have pawned all