Roberts. [Hanging up his hat.] I have nothing to say, Ma’am.
Enid. But I must speak to you, please.
[She moves towards the door.]
Roberts. [With sudden venom.] I have not the time to listen!
Mrs. Roberts. David!
Enid. Mr. Roberts, please!
Roberts. [Taking off his overcoat.] I am sorry
to disoblige a lady
—Mr. Anthony’s daughter.
Enid. [Wavering, then with sudden decision.] Mr. Roberts, I know you’ve another meeting of the men.
[Roberts bows.]
I came to appeal to you. Please, please, try to come to some compromise; give way a little, if it’s only for your own sakes!
Roberts. [Speaking to himself.] The daughter of Mr. Anthony begs me to give way a little, if it’s only for our own sakes!
Enid. For everybody’s sake; for your wife’s sake.
Roberts. For my wife’s sake, for
everybody’s sake—for the sake of
Mr. Anthony.
Enid. Why are you so bitter against my father? He has never done anything to you.
Roberts. Has he not?
Enid. He can’t help his views, any more than you can help yours.
Roberts. I really did n’t know that I had a right to views!
Enid. He’s an old man, and you——
[Seeing his eyes fixed on her, she stops.]
Roberts. [Without raising his voice.] If I saw Mr. Anthony going to die, and I could save him by lifting my hand, I would not lift the little finger of it.
Enid. You—you——[She stops again, biting her lips.]
Roberts. I would not, and that’s flat!
Enid. [Coldly.] You don’t mean what you say, and you know it!
Roberts. I mean every word of it.
Enid. But why?
Roberts. [With a flash.] Mr. Anthony stands for tyranny! That’s why!
Enid. Nonsense!
[Mrs. Roberts
makes a movement as if to rise, but sinks back in
her chair.]
Enid. [With an impetuous movement.] Annie!
Roberts. Please not to touch my wife!
Enid. [Recoiling with a sort of horror.] I believe—you are mad.
Roberts. The house of a madman then is not the fit place for a lady.
Enid. I ’m not afraid of you.
Roberts. [Bowing.] I would not expect the daughter of Mr. Anthony to be afraid. Mr. Anthony is not a coward like the rest of them.
Enid. [Suddenly.] I suppose you think it brave, then, to go on with the struggle.
Roberts. Does Mr. Anthony think it brave to fight against women and children? Mr. Anthony is a rich man, I believe; does he think it brave to fight against those who have n’t a penny? Does he think it brave to set children crying with hunger, an’ women shivering with cold?