nothing, nothing for the mind. Life is empty ... it's enough to kill one.

_MIELE and EDWARD pass to and fro, busy laying the table to the right
in the background._

LOTH

Aren't there balls or parties once in a while?

HELEN

Not even that! The farmers gamble, hunt, drink ... What is there to be
seen all the long day? [_She has approached the window and points out._]
_Such_ figures, mainly.

LOTH

H-m! Miners.

HELEN

Some are going to the mine, some are coming from the mine: all day, all
day ... At least, I seem always to see them. Do you suppose I even care
to go into the street alone? At most I slip through the back gate out
into the fields. And they are such a rough set! The way they stare at
one--so menacing and morose as if one were actually guilty of some crime.
Sometimes, in winter, when we go sleighing, they come in the darkness, in
great gangs, over the hills, through the storm, and, instead of making
way, they walk stubbornly in front of the horses. Then, sometimes the
farmers use the handles of their whips; it's the only way they can get