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 but he'll use up a poor old widow's last bit of firewood. He'll do that cheerfully enough! A big, strong lout like that lying around all day resting his lazy bones! He ought to be ashamed to look decent people in the face.

I'm sorry, Mother Hollunder

Sorry! Better be sorry the lazy good-for-nothing ain't in jail where he belongs instead of in the way of honest, hard-working people. [''She exits into the kitchen.'']

Who's that?

Mrs. Hollunder—my aunt. This is her [''with a sweeping gesture that takes in the camera, dark-*room and screen''] studio. She lets us live here for nothing.

What's she fetching the wood for?

She brings us everything we need. If it weren't for her I don't know what would become of us. She's a good-hearted soul even if her tongue is sharp. [There is a pause.]