MRS HALE: (_jumping up_) But, Mrs Peters--look at it! It's neck! Look at its neck!
It's all--other side _to_.
MRS PETERS: Somebody--wrung--its--neck.
(_Their eyes meet. A look of growing comprehension, of horror. Steps are heard outside_. MRS HALE _slips box under quilt pieces, and sinks into her chair. Enter_ SHERIFF _and_ COUNTY ATTORNEY. MRS PETERS _rises_.)
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_as one turning from serious things to little pleasantries_) Well ladies, have you decided whether she was going to quilt it or knot it?
MRS PETERS: We think she was going to--knot it.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: Well, that's interesting, I'm sure. (_seeing the birdcage_) Has the bird flown?
MRS HALE: (_putting more quilt pieces over the box_) We think the--cat got it.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_preoccupied_) Is there a cat?
(MRS HALE _glances in a quick covert way at_ MRS PETERS.)
MRS PETERS: Well, not now. They're superstitious, you know. They leave.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_to_ SHERIFF PETERS, _continuing an interrupted conversation_) No sign at all of anyone having come from the outside.
Their own rope. Now let's go up again and go over it piece by piece.
(_they start upstairs_) It would have to have been someone who knew just the--
(MRS PETERS _sits down. The two women sit there not looking at one another, but as if peering into something and at the same time holding back. When they talk now it is in the manner of feeling their way over strange ground, as if afraid of what they are saying, but as if they can not help saying it_.)
MRS HALE: She liked the bird. She was going to bury it in that pretty box.
MRS PETERS: (_in a whisper_) When I was a girl--my kitten--there was a boy took a hatchet, and before my eyes--and before I could get there--(_covers her face an instant_) If they hadn't held me back I would have--(_catches herself, looks upstairs where steps are heard, falters weakly_)--hurt him.
MRS HALE: (_with a slow look around her_) I wonder how it would seem never to have had any children around, (_pause_) No, Wright wouldn't like the bird--a thing that sang. She used to sing. He killed that, too.
MRS PETERS: (_moving uneasily_) We don't know who killed the bird.
MRS HALE: I knew John Wright.
MRS PETERS: It was an awful thing was done in this house that night, Mrs Hale. Killing a man while he slept, slipping a rope around his neck that choked the life out of him.
MRS HALE: His neck. Choked the life out of him.
(_Her hand goes out and rests on the bird-cage_.)
MRS PETERS: (_with rising voice_) We don't know who killed him. We don't _know_.
MRS HALE: (_her own feeling not interrupted_) If there'd been years and years of nothing, then a bird to sing to you, it would be awful--still, after the bird was still.
MRS PETERS: (_something within her speaking_) I know what stillness is.
When we homesteaded in Dakota, and my first baby died--after he was two years old, and me with no other then--
MRS HALE: (_moving_) How soon do you suppose they'll be through, looking for the evidence?
MRS PETERS: I know what stillness is. (_pulling herself back_) The law has got to punish crime, Mrs Hale.
MRS HALE: (_not as if answering that_) I wish you'd seen Minnie Foster when she wore a white dress with blue ribbons and stood up there in the choir and sang. (_a look around the room_) Oh, I _wish_ I'd come over here once in a while! That was a crime! That was a crime! Who's going to punish that?
MRS PETERS: (_looking upstairs_) We mustn't--take on.
MRS HALE: I might have known she needed help! I know how things can be--for women. I tell you, it's queer, Mrs Peters. We live close together and we live far apart. We all go through the same things--it's all just a different kind of the same thing, (_brushes her eyes, noticing the bottle of fruit, reaches out for it_) If I was you, I wouldn't tell her her fruit was gone. Tell her it _ain't_. Tell her it's all right. Take this in to prove it to her. She--she may never know whether it was broke or not.
MRS PETERS: (_takes the bottle, looks about for something to wrap it in; takes petticoat from the clothes brought from the other room, very nervously begins winding this around the bottle. In a false voice_) My, it's a good thing the men couldn't hear us. Wouldn't they just laugh!
Getting all stirred up over a little thing like a--dead canary. As if that could have anything to do with--with--wouldn't they _laugh_!
(_The men are heard coming down stairs_.)
MRS HALE: (_under her breath_) Maybe they would--maybe they wouldn't.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: No, Peters, it's all perfectly clear except a reason for doing it. But you know juries when it comes to women. If there was some definite thing. Something to show--something to make a story about--a thing that would connect up with this strange way of doing it--
(_The women's eyes meet for an instant. Enter HALE from outer door_.)
HALE: Well, I've got the team around. Pretty cold out there.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: I'm going to stay here a while by myself, (_to the_ SHERIFF) You can send Frank out for me, can't you? I want to go over everything. I'm not satisfied that we can't do better.
SHERIFF: Do you want to see what Mrs Peters is going to take in?
(_The_ LAWYER _goes to the table, picks up the apron, laughs_.)
COUNTY ATTORNEY: Oh, I guess they're not very dangerous things the ladies have picked out. (_Moves a few things about, disturbing the quilt pieces which cover the box. Steps back_) No, Mrs Peters doesn't need supervising. For that matter, a sheriff's wife is married to the law.
Ever think of it that way, Mrs Peters?
MRS PETERS: Not--just that way.
SHERIFF: (_chuckling_) Married to the law. (_moves toward the other room_) I just want you to come in here a minute, George. We ought to take a look at these windows.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_scoffingly_) Oh, windows!
SHERIFF: We'll be right out, Mr Hale.
(HALE _goes outside. The_ SHERIFF _follows the_ COUNTY ATTORNEY _into the other room. Then_ MRS HALE _rises, hands tight together, looking intensely at_ MRS PETERS, _whose eyes make a slow turn, finally meeting_ MRS HALE_'s. A moment_ MRS HALE _holds her, then her own eyes point the way to where the box is concealed. Suddenly_ MRS PETERS _throws back quilt pieces and tries to put the box in the bag she is wearing. It is too big. She opens box, starts to take bird out, cannot touch it, goes to pieces, stands there helpless. Sound of a knob turning in the other room_. MRS HALE _snatches the box and puts it in the pocket of her big coat. Enter_ COUNTY ATTORNEY _and_ SHERIFF.)
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_facetiously_) Well, Henry, at least we found out that she was not going to quilt it. She was going to--what is it you call it, ladies?
MRS HALE: (_her hand against her pocket_) We call it--knot it, Mr Henderson.
(CURTAIN)