moved.] It does make me so very
anxious. I haven't slept properly for weeks, sir, and that's a fact.

[ANTHONY looks in his face, then slowly shakes his head.]

[Disheartened.] No, Sir? [He goes on arranging papers.]

[FROST places the whiskey and salver and puts it down by
ANTHONY'S right hand. He stands away, looking gravely at
ANTHONY.]

FROST. Nothing I can get you, sir?

[ANTHONY shakes his head.]

You're aware, sir, of what the doctor said, sir?

ANTHONY. I am.

[A pause. FROST suddenly moves closer to him, and speaks in a
low voice.]

FROST. This strike, sir; puttin' all this strain on you. Excuse me,
sir, is it--is it worth it, sir?

[ANTHONY mutters some words that are inaudible.]

Very good, sir!

[He turns and goes out into the hall. TENCH makes two attempts
to speak; but meeting his Chairman's gaze he drops his eyes,
and, turning dismally, he too goes out. ANTHONY is left alone.
He grips the glass, tilts it, and drinks deeply; then sets it
down with a deep and rumbling sigh, and leans back in his
chair.]

The curtain falls.

ACT II

SCENE I

It is half-past three. In the kitchen of Roberts's cottage a
meagre little fire is burning. The room is clean and tidy, very
barely furnished, with a brick floor and white-washed walls,
much stained with smoke. There is a kettle on the fire. A door
opposite the fireplace opens inward from a snowy street. On the
wooden table are a cup and saucer, a teapot, knife, and plate of
bread and cheese. Close to the fireplace in an old arm-chair,
wrapped in a rug, sits MRS. ROBERTS, a thin and dark-haired
woman about thirty-five, with patient eyes. Her hair is not
done up, but tied back with a piece of ribbon. By the fire,
too, is MRS. YEO; a red-haired, broad-faced person. Sitting
near the table is MRS. ROUS, an old lady, ashen-white, with
silver hair; by the door, standing, as if about to go, is MRS.
BULGIN, a little pale, pinched-up woman. In a chair, with her
elbows resting on the table, avid her face resting in her hands,
sits MADGE THOMAS, a good-looking girl, of twenty-two, with high
cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and dark untidy hair. She is
listening to the talk, but she neither speaks nor moves.

MRS. YEO. So he give me a sixpence, an