Wanklin.  You’re rather overshooting the mark.

Wilder.  I should think so indeed!

Edgar. [Losing control.] It’s no use blinking things!  If you want to have the death of women on your hands—­I don’t!

Scantlebury.  Now, now, young man!

Wilder.  On our hands?  Not on mine, I won’t have it!

Edgar.  We are five members of this Board; if we were four against it, why did we let it drift till it came to this?  You know perfectly well why—­because we hoped we should starve the men out.  Well, all we’ve done is to starve one woman out!

Scantlebury. [Almost hysterically.] I protest, I protest!  I’m a humane man—­we’re all humane men!

Edgar. [Scornfully.] There’s nothing wrong with our humanity.  It’s our imaginations, Mr. Scantlebury.

Wilder.  Nonsense!  My imagination’s as good as yours.

Edgar.  If so, it is n’t good enough.

Wilder.  I foresaw this!

Edgar.  Then why didn’t you put your foot down!

Wilder.  Much good that would have done.

     [He looks at Anthony.]

Edgar.  If you, and I, and each one of us here who say that our imaginations are so good—­

Scantlebury. [Flurried.] I never said so.

Edgar. [Paying no attention.]—­had put our feet down, the thing would have been ended long ago, and this poor woman’s life wouldn’t have been crushed out of her like this.  For all we can tell there may be a dozen other starving women.

Scantlebury.  For God’s sake, sir, don’t use that word at a—­at a
Board meeting; it’s—­it’s monstrous.

Edgar.  I will use it, Mr. Scantlebury.

Scantlebury.  Then I shall not listen to you.  I shall not listen! 
It’s painful to me.

     [He covers his ears.]

Wanklin.  None of us are opposed to a settlement, except your Father.

Edgar.  I’m certain that if the shareholders knew——­

Wanklin.  I don’t think you’ll find their imaginations are any better than ours.  Because a woman happens to have a weak heart——­

Edgar.  A struggle like this finds out the weak spots in everybody.  Any child knows that.  If it hadn’t been for this cut-throat policy, she need n’t have died like this; and there would n’t be all this misery that any one who is n’t a fool can see is going on.

     [Throughout the foregoing Anthony has eyed his son; he now moves
     as though to rise, but stops as Edgar speaks again.]

I don’t defend the men, or myself, or anybody.

Wanklin.  You may have to!  A coroner’s jury of disinterested sympathisers may say some very nasty things.  We mustn’t lose sight of our position.