HONY. No old man can afford to listen to old women.

ENID. But you have done enough, even if it really is such a matter
of principle with you.

ANTHONY. You think so?

ENID. Don't Dad! [Her face works.] You--you might think of us!

ANTHONY. I am.

ENID. It'll break you down.

ANTHONY. [Slowly.] My dear, I am not going to funk; on that you may
rely.

[Re-enter TENCH with papers; he glances at them, then plucking
up courage.]

TENCH. Beg pardon, Madam, I think I'd rather see these papers were
disposed of before I get my lunch.

[ENID, after an impatient glance at him, looks at her father,
turns suddenly, and goes into the drawing-room.]

TENCH. [Holding the papers and a pen to ANTHONY, very nervously.]
Would you sign these for me, please sir?

[ANTHONY takes the pen and signs.]

TENCH. [Standing with a sheet of blotting-paper behind EDGAR'S
chair, begins speaking nervously.] I owe my position to you, sir.

ANTHONY. Well?

TENCH. I'm obliged to see everything that's going on, sir; I--I
depend upon the Company entirely. If anything were to happen to it,
it'd be disastrous for me. [ANTHONY nods.] And, of course, my
wife's just had another; and so it makes me doubly anxious just now.
And the rates are really terrible down our way.

ANTHONY. [With grim amusement.] Not more terrible than they are up
mine.

TENCH. No, Sir? [Very nervously.] I know the Company means a great
deal to you, sir.

ANTHONY. It does; I founded it.

TENCH. Yes, Sir. If the strike goes on it'll be very serious. I
think the Directors are beginning to realise that, sir.

ANTHONY. [Ironically.] Indeed?

TENCH. I know you hold very strong views, sir, and it's always your
habit to look things in the face; but I don't think the Directors--
like it, sir, now they--they see it.

ANTHONY. [Grimly.] Nor you, it seems.

TENCH. [With the ghost of a smile.] No, sir; of course I've got my
children, and my wife's delicate; in my position I have to think of
these things.

[ANTHONY nods.]

It was n't that I was going to say, sir, if you'll excuse me----
[hesitates]

ANTHONY. Out with it, then!

TENCH. I know--from my own father, sir, that when you get on in life
you do feel things dreadfully----

ANTHONY. [Almost paternally.] Come, out with it, Trench!

TENCH. I don't like to say it, sir.

ANTHONY. [Stonily.] You Must.

TENCH. [After a pause, desperately bol