(WILLIE is flattened on the ground.)

JOB ARTHUR.  Now, then—­now then—­if you won’t answer, Barlow, I can’t stand here for you any more.—­Take your feet off him, boys, and turn him over—­let us look at him.  Let us see if he CAN speak.  (They turn him over, with another scuffle.) Now then, Barlow—­you can see the sky above you.  Now do you think you’re going to play with three thousand men, with their lives and with their souls?—­ now do you think you’re going to answer them with your foot?—­do you—­do you?

(The crowd has begun to sway and heave dangerously, with a low,
     muffled roar, above which is heard JOB ARTHUR’S voice.  As he
     ceases, the roar breaks into a yell—­the crowd heaves.)

VOICES.  Down him—­crack the vermin—­on top of him—­put your foot on the vermin!

ANABEL (with a loud, piercing cry, suddenly starting up).  Ah, no!  Ah, no!  Ah-h-h-h no-o-o-o!  Ah-h-h-h no-o-o-o!  Ah-h-h-h no-o-o-o!  No-o-o-o!  No-o-o-o!  No-o!  No-o-o!—­Ah-h-h-h!—­it’s enough, it’s enough, it’s enough—­he’s a man as you are.  He’s a man as you are.  He’s a man as you are. (Weeps—­a breath of silence.)

OLIVER.  Let us stop now—­let us stop now.  Let me stand up.  (Silence.) I want to stand up. (A muffled noise.)

VOICE.  Let him get up. (OLIVER rises.)

OLIVER.  Be quiet.  Be quiet.—­Now—­choose!  Choose!  Choose!  Choose what you will do!  Only choose!  Choose!—­it will be irrevocable. (A moment’s pause.) Thank God we haven’t gone too far.—­Gerald, get up.  (Men still hold him down.)

JOB ARTHUR.  Isn’t he to answer us?  Isn’t he going to answer us?

OLIVER.  Yes, he shall answer you.  He shall answer you.  But let him stand up.  No more of this.  Let him stand up.  He must stand up. (Men still hold GERALD down.) OLIVER takes hold of their hands and removes them.) Let go—­let go now.  Yes, let go—­yes—­I ask you to let go. (Slowly, sullenly, the men let go.  GERALD is free, but he does not move.) There—­get up, Gerald!  Get up!  You aren’t hurt, are you?  You must get up—­it’s no use.  We’re doing our best—­you must do yours.  When things are like this, we have to put up with what we get. (GERALD rises slowly and faces the mob.  They roar dully.) You ask why the clerks didn’t get this increase?  Wait!  Wait!  Do you still wish for any answer, Mr. Freer?

JOB ARTHUR.  Yes, that’s what we’ve been waiting for.

OLIVER.  Then answer, Gerald.

GERALD.  They’ve trodden on my face.

OLIVER.  No matter.  Job Arthur will easily answer that you’ve trodden on their souls.  Don’t start an altercation. (The crowd is beginning to roar.)

GERALD.  You want to know why the clerks didn’t get their rise?—­ Because you interfered and attempted to bully about it, do you see.  That’s why.