Dr. Jonathan (smiling).  An autocracy of professors instead of business men.  Well, every dog has his day.  And George is coming home.

Asher.  And what is there left to hand over to him if he lives?  What future has the Pindar Shops,—­which I have spent my life to build up?

Dr. Jonathan.  If George lives, as we hope, you need not worry about the future of the Pindar Shops, I think.

Augusta.  If God will only spare him!

Asher.  I guess I’ve about got to the point where I don’t believe that a
God exists.

   (A flash and a loud peal of thunder.)

Augusta.  Asher

Asher.  Then let Him strike me!

   (He hurries abruptly out of the door, left.)

Augusta (after a silence).  During all the years of our married life, he has never said such a thing as that.  Asher an atheist!

Dr. Jonathan.  So was Job, Augusta,—­for a while.

Augusta (avoiding Dr. Jonathan’s glance, and beginning to knit).  You wanted to speak to me, Jonathan?

   (The maid enters, lower right.)

Maid.  Timothy Farrell, ma’am.

   (Exit maid, enter Timothy Farrell.)

Augusta.  I’m afraid Mr. Pindar can’t see you just now, Timothy.

Timothy.  It’s you I’ve come to see, ma’am, if you’ll bear with me, —­who once took an interest in Minnie.

Augusta.  It is true that I once took an interest in her, Timothy, but I’m afraid I have lost it.  I dislike to say this to you, her father, but it’s so.

Timothy.  Don’t be hard on her, Mrs. Pindar.  She may have been wild-like in Newcastle, but since she was back here to work for the doctor she’s been a good girl, and that happy I wouldn’t know her, and a comfort to me in me old age,—­what with Bert gone, and Jamesy taken to drink!  And now she’s run away and left me alone entirely, with the shops closed, and no work to do.

Augusta (knitting).  She’s left Foxon Falls?

Timothy (breaking down for a moment).  When I woke up this morning I found a letter beside me bed—­I’m not to worry, she says and I know how fond of me she was—­be the care she took of me.  She’s been keeping company with no young man—­that I know.  If she wasn’t working with the doctor on that discovery she’d be home with me.

Augusta.  I’m sorry for you, Timothy, but I don’t see what I can do.

Timothy.  I minded that you were talking to her yesterday in the lab’rat’ry, before the telegram came about Mr. George.

Augusta.  Well?

Timothy.  It was just a hope, ma’am, catching at a straw-like.

Augusta (tightening her lips).  I repeat that I’m sorry for you, Timothy. 
I have no idea where she has gone.