The
milk's spilt and I'll not cry.
MAGGIE (_holding plate_). Then there's your cake, and you
can eat it.
HOBSON. I've given you my word there's no ill feeling. (_Pushes
cake away_.)
MAGGIE. So now we'll have the deed. (_Pushes it back_.)
HOBSON. You're a hard woman. (_He eats_.) You've no
consideration for the weakness of old age.
MAGGIE. Finished?
HOBSON. Pass me that tea.
(_She passes: he drinks_.)
That's easier.
MAGGIE. Now tell me what it is you came about?
HOBSON. I'm in sore trouble, Maggie.
MAGGIE (_rising and going towards door_, L.). Then I'll
leave you with my husband to talk it over.
HOBSON. Eh?
MAGGIE. You'll not be wanting me. Women are only in your way.
HOBSON (_rising and going_ C.). Maggie, you re not going to
desert me in the hour of my need, are you?
MAGGIE. Surely to goodness you don't want a woman to help you
after all you've said! Will 'ull do his best, I make no doubt.
(_She goes towards door_.) Give me a call when you've
finished, Will.
HOBSON (_following her_). Maggie! It's private.
MAGGIE. Why, yes. I'm going and you can discuss it man to man
with no fools of women about.
HOBSON. I tell you I've come to see you, not him. It's private
from him.
MAGGIE.
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