Cokeson. [Greatly disturbed] Then you’ve both lost your livings!  What a horrible position!

Ruth.  If he could only get here—­where there’s nothing to find out about him!

Cokeson.  We can’t have anything derogative to the firm.

Ruth.  I’ve no one else to go to.

Cokeson.  I’ll speak to the partners, but I don’t think they’ll take him, under the circumstances.  I don’t really.

Ruth.  He came with me; he’s down there in the street. [She points to the window.]

Cokeson. [On his dignity] He shouldn’t have done that until he’s sent for. [Then softening at the look on her face] We’ve got a vacancy, as it happens, but I can’t promise anything.

Ruth.  It would be the saving of him.

Cokeson.  Well, I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sanguine.  Now tell him that I don’t want him till I see how things are.  Leave your address? [Repeating her] 83 Mullingar Street? [He notes it on blotting-paper] Good-morning.

Ruth.  Thank you.

     She moves towards the door, turns as if to speak, but does not,
     and goes away.

Cokeson. [Wiping his head and forehead with a large white cotton handkerchief] What a business! [Then looking amongst his papers, he sounds his bell.  Sweedle answers it]

Cokeson.  Was that young Richards coming here to-day after the clerk’s place?

Sweedle.  Yes.

Cokeson.  Well, keep him in the air; I don’t want to see him yet.

Sweedle.  What shall I tell him, sir?

Cokeson. [With asperity] invent something.  Use your brains.  Don’t stump him off altogether.

Sweedle.  Shall I tell him that we’ve got illness, sir?

Cokeson.  No!  Nothing untrue.  Say I’m not here to-day.

Sweedle.  Yes, sir.  Keep him hankering?

Cokeson.  Exactly.  And look here.  You remember Falder?  I may be having him round to see me.  Now, treat him like you’d have him treat you in a similar position.

Sweedle.  I naturally should do.

Cokeson.  That’s right.  When a man’s down never hit ’im.  ’Tisn’t necessary.  Give him a hand up.  That’s a metaphor I recommend to you in life.  It’s sound policy.

Sweedle.  Do you think the governors will take him on again, sir?

Cokeson.  Can’t say anything about that. [At the sound of some one having entered the outer office] Who’s there?

Sweedle. [Going to the door and looking] It’s Falder, sir.

Cokeson. [Vexed] Dear me!  That’s very naughty of her.  Tell him to call again.  I don’t want——­

     He breaks off as Falder comes in.  Falder is thin, pale, older,
     his eyes have grown more restless.  His clothes are very worn
     and loose.