Are you Maggie?
MAGGIE. I'm Maggie.
DOCTOR. Ye'll do.
HOBSON (_getting his breath_). What are you doing under my
roof?
MAGGIE. I've come because I was fetched. (_Coming_ C.)
HOBSON. Who fetched you?
MAGGIE. Tubby Wadlow.
HOBSON (_rising_). Tubby can quit my shop this minute.
DOCTOR (_putting him back_). Sit down, Mr. Hobson.
MAGGIE. He said you're dangerously ill.
DOCTOR. He is. I'm Doctor MacFarlane. (_Coming_ C.) Will you
come and live here again?
MAGGIE. I'm married.
DOCTOR. I know that, Mrs.--
MAGGIE. Mossop.
DOCTOR. Your father's drinking himself to death, Mrs. Mossop.
HOBSON. Look here, Doctor, what's passed between you and me isn't
for everybody's ears.
DOCTOR. I judge your daughter's not the sort to want the truth
wrapped round with a feather-bed for fear it hits her hard.
MAGGIE (_nodding appreciatively_). Go on. I'd like to hear
it all. (_Goes to and sits in chair_ R. _of table_.)
HOBSON. Just nasty-minded curiosity.
DOCTOR. I don't agree with you, Mr. Hobson. If Mrs. Mossop is to
sacrifice her own home to come to you, she's every right to know
the reason why.
HOBSON. Sacrifice! If you saw her home you'd find another word
than that. Two cellars in Oldfield Road.
Pages:
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104