GUERET. I know my men; they're not bad fellows.

THERESE. My workers are splendid women.

GUERET. Of course they are. As a matter of fact we're face to face now,
not with a fight between men and masters, but with a fight between
men-workers and women-workers. The men have their trade union, and the
women have theirs. Both unions have a President and two Vice-Presidents.
Both have their office. We must have a meeting between the two here at
once, in a friendly, sensible way, before they've all had time to excite
themselves; and let them find some way out that'll please 'em all.

FELIAT. But, my dear fellow, if you bring them together, they'll tear
one another's eyes out.

GUERET. Oh, we know you don't believe the working classes have any
sense.

FELIAT [_between his teeth_] I don't. I've been an employer too long.

THERESE [_to Monsieur Feliat_] Why not try what my godfather suggests?
What do you risk?

FELIAT. I don't mind. But I will have nothing to do with it personally.

GUERET. Neither will I.

THERESE. I'll go and see if Berthe and Constance are here. [_To Gueret_]
You go and fetch your men. [_She goes out to the left_]

GUERET. I give you my word that, if there's any possible way out, this
is the only chance of getting at it.

FELIAT. Very well, go and fetch them.

_Gueret goes out. Therese comes in with Berthe and
Constance. They are wearing large aprons and have scissors
attached to their waistbelts. Berthe is a fat, ordinary
woman. Constance is tall, dry, and ugly._

BERTHE [_respectfully_] Good-morning, Monsieur Feliat.

CONSTANCE [_the same_] Good-morning, Monsieur Feliat.

THERESE. I want Berthe and Constance to tell you themselves whether you
can count upon them in case of the men striking.

CONSTANCE. Oh yes, Monsieur Feliat. We'll do anything you want us to.

BERTHE. Oh, Monsieur Feliat, don't send us away!

CONSTANCE [_imploringly_] Oh, Monsieur Feliat, you won't send us away,
will you?

BERTHE. We do want the work so, Monsieur.

CONSTANCE. It's God's truth we do.

FELIAT. I'll do everything possible on my side, but it all depends on
yourselves and the men. Try to come to some understanding.

CONSTANCE. Yes, Monsieur.

BERTHE [_lowering her voice_] If you can't pay us quite as much for the
mending, we don't mind taking a little less. You'd keep it dark,
wouldn't you?

FELIAT. We'll see about it.

_Girard, Charpin, Deschaume, and Vincent come in._