Tench.  No, Sir, I believe not, sir.

Wilder.  Well, I shall speak out; I’ve had enough of this.

Edgar. [Sharply.] What?

[It ceases instantly.  Anthony passes through, closing the doors behind him.  Enid springs to them with a gesture of dismay.  She puts her hand on the knob, and begins turning it; then goes to the fireplace, and taps her foot on the fender.  Suddenly she rings the bell.  Frost comes in by the door that leads into the hall.]

Frost. Yes, M’m?

Enid.  When the men come, Frost, please show them in here; the hall ’s cold.

Frost. I could put them in the pantry, M’m.

Enid.  No.  I don’t want to—­to offend them; they’re so touchy.

Frost. Yes, M’m. [Pause.] Excuse me, Mr. Anthony’s ’ad nothing to eat all day.

Enid.  I know Frost.

Frost. Nothin’ but two whiskies and sodas, M’m.

Enid.  Oh! you oughtn’t to have let him have those.

Frost. [Gravely.] Mr. Anthony is a little difficult, M’m.  It’s not as if he were a younger man, an’ knew what was good for ’im; he will have his own way.

Enid.  I suppose we all want that.

Frost. Yes, M’m. [Quietly.] Excuse me speakin’ about the strike.  I’m sure if the other gentlemen were to give up to Mr. Anthony, and quietly let the men ’ave what they want, afterwards, that’d be the best way.  I find that very useful with him at times, M’m.

     [Enid shakes hey head.]

If he’s crossed, it makes him violent. [with an air of discovery], and I’ve noticed in my own case, when I’m violent I’m always sorry for it afterwards.

Enid. [With a smile.] Are you ever violent, Frost?

Frost. Yes, M’m; oh! sometimes very violent.

Enid.  I’ve never seen you.

Frost. [Impersonally.] No, M’m; that is so.

     [Enid fidgets towards the back of the door.]

[With feeling.] Bein’ with Mr. Anthony, as you know, M’m, ever since I was fifteen, it worries me to see him crossed like this at his age.  I’ve taken the liberty to speak to Mr. Wanklin [dropping his voice]—­ seems to be the most sensible of the gentlemen—­but ’e said to me:  “That’s all very well, Frost, but this strike’s a very serious thing,” ’e said.  “Serious for all parties, no doubt,” I said, “but yumour ’im, sir,” I said, “yumour ’im.  It’s like this, if a man comes to a stone wall, ’e does n’t drive ’is ’ead against it, ’e gets over it.”  “Yes,” ’e said, “you’d better tell your master that.” [Frost looks at his nails.] That’s where it is, M’m.  I said to Mr. Anthony this morning:  “Is it worth it, sir?” “Damn it,” he said to me, “Frost!  Mind your own business, or take a month’s notice!” Beg pardon, M’m, for using such a word.