FÉliat. Hullo! Was it to make her cry like that that you wanted to see her? Is that what you've learnt "in phosphates"? [To ThÉrÈse] Don't, my dear. [In a tone of kindly remonstrance] You! Is it you I find crying like a little schoolgirl? [ThÉrÈse wipes her eyes] Oh, I understand all about it. But his father will give in in the end. And you, RenÉ, be reasonable, don't hurry things.

RenÉ. But I want—

FÉliat [interrupting him] No, no, for goodness' sake, not just now. We'll talk about it later on. Just now we have other fish to fry. We're in a fix, my young lover. We've got to face some very serious difficulties. Go along with you.

GuÉret [to Monsieur FÉliat] One of the delegates of the Central Committee is outside.

FÉliat. And what does the brute want?

GuÉret [makes a gesture of caution and points to the door] He wishes to speak to the Chairman of the Women's Union.

FÉliat. Oh, ask the gentleman in. [To RenÉ] My boy, you must be off. I'll see you presently.

RenÉ. Yes, presently.

ThÉrÈse [aside to RenÉ] Be at the station half an hour before the train goes. I'll be there to say good-bye.

FÉliat. Good-morning. What can I do for you?

Delegate. I am a delegate from the Central Committee in Paris.

FÉliat. I am Monsieur FÉliat, the owner of these works. I'm at your service.

Delegate. It's not to you I wish to speak. This is a question which doesn't concern you.

FÉliat. Which doesn't concern me!

Delegate. Not at present, at any rate. Will you kindly tell me where I can find the person I have come to see?

FÉliat [furious] I—[controlling himself] She is here. [He indicates ThÉrÈse]

Delegate. Mademoiselle, I'm here as the representative of the Central Committee in Paris to request you to break up your Women's Union.

ThÉrÈse. So that's it.

Delegate. That's it.

ThÉrÈse. What harm does it do you?

Delegate. It strengthens you too much against us.

ThÉrÈse. If I asked you to break up yours for the same reason, what would you say to me?

Delegate. Our union is to fight the masters; yours is to fight us.

ThÉrÈse. It does you no harm whatever.

Delegate. Your union supports a movement we've decided to fight.

ThÉrÈse. What movement?

Delegate. The movement of the competition of women, the invasion of the labor market by female labor.

ThÉrÈse. Not a very dangerous invasion.

Delegate. You think not. Listen. I've just come down from Paris. Who gave me my railway ticket? A woman. Who did I find behind the counter at the Post Office? A woman. Who was at the end of the telephone wire? A woman. I had to get some money; it was a woman who gave it to me at the bank. I don't even speak of the women doctors and lawyers. And in industry, like everywhere else, women want to supplant us. There are women now even in the metal-working shops. Everyone has the right to defend himself against competition. The workmen are going to defend themselves.

ThÉrÈse. Without troubling about the consequences. To take away a woman's right to work is to condemn her to starvation or prostitution. You're not competitors, you're enemies.

Delegate. You're mistaken. We're so little the enemies of the women that in asking you to do away with your Union we're speaking in your own interest.

ThÉrÈse. Bah!

Delegate. We don't want women to take lower wages than ours.

ThÉrÈse. I know the phrase. "Equal wages for equal work."

Delegate. That's absolutely just.

ThÉrÈse. The masters won't give those equal wages.

Delegate. The women have a means of forcing them to; they can strike.

ThÉrÈse. We don't wish to employ those means.

Delegate. I beg your pardon, the women would consent at once. It's you that prevent them, through the Union that you've started. Isn't that so?

ThÉrÈse. That is so. But you know why.

Delegate. No, I do not know why.

ThÉrÈse. Then I will tell you why. It is because the phrase only seems to be just and generous. You know very well that here, at any rate, the owner would not employ any more women if he had to pay them the same wages he pays the men. And if they struck, he'd replace them by men. Your apparent solicitude is only hypocrisy. In reality you want to get rid of the women.

Delegate. Well, I admit that. The women are not competitors; they're enemies. In every dispute they'll take the side of the masters.

ThÉrÈse. How d'you know that?

Delegate. They've always done it, because women take orders by instinct. They're humble, and docile, and easily frightened.

ThÉrÈse. Why don't you say inferiors, at once?

Delegate. Well, yes; inferiors, the majority of them.

ThÉrÈse. If they're inferiors, it's only right that they should take lower wages.

Delegate. Oh, I didn't mean to say—

ThÉrÈse [interrupting him] But it's not true—they are not your inferiors. If they believe they are, it's because of the wrongs and humiliations you've imposed on them for centuries. You men stick together. Why are we not to do the same? If you start trade unions, why may not we? As a matter of fact, as regards work, we're your equals. We need our wages; and to get hold of the jobs that we're able to do we offer our work at a cheaper rate than you do. That is competition; you must protect yourselves from it. If you want no more competition, keep your women at home and support them.

Delegate. But that's precisely what we want: "The man in the workshop, the woman in the home."

ThÉrÈse. If the mother is not at home nowadays, it's because the man is in the saloon.

Delegate. The men go to the saloons because they're tired of finding the place badly kept and the supper not ready when they go home, and instead of a wife a tired-out factory hand.

ThÉrÈse. D'you think it's to amuse themselves the women go to work? Don't you suppose they prefer a quiet life in their own homes?

Delegate. They've only got to stay there.

ThÉrÈse. And who's to support them?

Delegate. Their husbands!

ThÉrÈse. First they've got to have husbands. What about the ones who have no husbands—the girls, the widows, the abandoned? Isn't it better to give them a trade than to force them to take a lover? Some of them want to leave off being obliged to beg for the help of a man. Can't you see that for a lot of women work means freedom? Can you blame them for demanding the right to work? That's the victory they're fighting for.

Delegate. I'm not at all sure that that victory is a desirable one. Indeed, I'm sure it is not. When you've succeeded in giving the woman complete independence through hard work; when you have taken her children from her and handed them over to a crÈche; when you've severed her from her domestic duties and also from all domestic happiness and joy, how d'you know she won't turn round and demand to have her old slavery back again? The quietness and peace of her own home? The right to care for her own husband and nurse her own child?

ThÉrÈse. But can't you see that it's just that that the immense majority of women are demanding now? We want the women to stay at home just as much as you do. But how are you going to make that possible? At present the money spent on drink equals the total of the salaries paid to women. So the problem is to get rid of drunkenness. But the middle classes refuse to meet this evil straightforwardly because the votes which keep them in power are in the pockets of the publicans; and you socialist leaders refuse just as much as the middle classes really to tackle the drink question because you're as keen for votes as they are. You've got to look the situation in the face. We're on the threshold of a new era. In every civilized country, in the towns and in the rural districts, from the destitute and from the poor, from every home that a man has deserted for drink or left empty because men have no longer the courage to marry, a woman will appear, who comes out from that home and will sit down by your side in the workshop, in the factory, at the office, in the counting house. You don't want her as housewife; and as she refuses to be a prostitute, she will become a woman-worker, a competitor; and finally, because she has more energy than you have, and because she is not a drunkard, she will take your places.

Delegate [brutally] Well, before another hour's gone over our heads you'll find that she won't start that game here.

FÉliat [to the delegate] My dear sir, a thousand pardons for interrupting you, but as I've just turned your friend out of my house because he took advantage of being in it to start a propaganda against me, what's the use of your going on talking to this lady about a course of action she will no more consent to than I shall?

Delegate. Very well, Monsieur. I shall telephone to Paris for instructions. Probably you will refuse to let me use your instrument.

FÉliat. I most certainly shall.

Delegate. So I shall go to the Post Office, and in ten minutes—

FÉliat. Go, my dear sir, go. But let me tell you in a friendly way that it'll take you more than ten minutes to get on to Paris.

Delegate. It takes you more, perhaps, but not me. Good-morning. [The delegate goes out]

FÉliat [to ThÉrÈse] The low brute! Things are not going well. What happened at Duriot's has made a very unfortunate impression here. The news that you were going to open a new workshop for the women has been twisted and distorted by gossip and chatter, and my men have been worked up by the other brute to come and threaten me.

ThÉrÈse. What d'you mean?

FÉliat. They threaten me with a strike and with blacklisting me if I don't give up the idea.

ThÉrÈse. You can't give up absolutely certain profits.

FÉliat. If I am too obstinate, it may result in much larger losses which will be equally certain.

ThÉrÈse. But what then?

FÉliat. I've had to promise that for the present at any rate there's no question of taking on any more women.

ThÉrÈse. Oh!

FÉliat. What could I do?

FÉliat [to GuÉret] Well?

GuÉret. They wouldn't listen.

FÉliat. I was afraid they wouldn't. [To ThÉrÈse] That's not all. Your godfather has been trying something else, and I understand he's not succeeded. I shall have to take the mending away from your workshop.

ThÉrÈse. The women won't agree to that.

GuÉret. Perhaps that would be the best solution of the difficulty.

ThÉrÈse [startled] Don't say that. You can't mean it. Think!

GuÉret. What's more, the men refuse to finish the work the women have begun.

ThÉrÈse. We'll finish it.

GuÉret. Then they'll strike.

ThÉrÈse. Let them strike. Monsieur FÉliat, you can fight now and get terms for yourself. Just at this moment we have only one very urgent order. If the men strike, I can find you women to replace them. Every day I am refusing people who want to be taken on.

GuÉret [suddenly] I have an idea.

ThÉrÈse. What's that?

GuÉret. I know my men; they're not bad fellows.

ThÉrÈse. My workers are splendid women.

GuÉret. Of course they are. As a matter of fact we're face to face now, not with a fight between men and masters, but with a fight between men-workers and women-workers. The men have their trade union, and the women have theirs. Both unions have a President and two Vice-Presidents. Both have their office. We must have a meeting between the two here at once, in a friendly, sensible way, before they've all had time to excite themselves; and let them find some way out that'll please 'em all.

FÉliat. But, my dear fellow, if you bring them together, they'll tear one another's eyes out.

GuÉret. Oh, we know you don't believe the working classes have any sense.

FÉliat [between his teeth] I don't. I've been an employer too long.

ThÉrÈse [to Monsieur FÉliat] Why not try what my godfather suggests? What do you risk?

FÉliat. I don't mind. But I will have nothing to do with it personally.

GuÉret. Neither will I.

ThÉrÈse. I'll go and see if Berthe and Constance are here. [To GuÉret] You go and fetch your men. [She goes out to the left]

GuÉret. I give you my word that, if there's any possible way out, this is the only chance of getting at it.

FÉliat. Very well, go and fetch them.

Berthe [respectfully] Good-morning, Monsieur FÉliat.

Constance [the same] Good-morning, Monsieur FÉliat.

ThÉrÈse. I want Berthe and Constance to tell you themselves whether you can count upon them in case of the men striking.

Constance. Oh yes, Monsieur FÉliat. We'll do anything you want us to.

Berthe. Oh, Monsieur FÉliat, don't send us away!

Constance [imploringly] Oh, Monsieur FÉliat, you won't send us away, will you?

Berthe. We do want the work so, Monsieur.

Constance. It's God's truth we do.

FÉliat. I'll do everything possible on my side, but it all depends on yourselves and the men. Try to come to some understanding.

Constance. Yes, Monsieur.

Berthe [lowering her voice] If you can't pay us quite as much for the mending, we don't mind taking a little less. You'd keep it dark, wouldn't you?

FÉliat. We'll see about it.

Workmen [very civil and speaking together] Good-morning, ladies and gents.

FÉliat. Has my brother explained to you why he asked you to meet the representatives of the Women's Union and to try to come to an understanding with them?

Girard. Yes, Monsieur FÉliat.

Charpin. That's all we want. All friends together, like.

Deschaume. That's the hammer, mate!

FÉliat. Then I'll go. Do try and keep your tempers.

All [speaking together] Oh yes. To be sure, sir. You needn't trouble, sir.

Charpin. Well, what d'you say to a sit down?

Deschaume [speaking of Charpin] That lazy swine's only comfortable when he's sittin' down.

Charpin. I ain't agoing to tire meself for nix, not 'arf!

Constance [rising] Have my chair, Mademoiselle.

ThÉrÈse. No, thank you, I prefer to stand.

Charpin. I see that all our little lot's here. There's four on us, but only three 'er you.

Deschaume [meaningly] One of the hens ain't turned up yet.

Charpin [sniggering] Perhaps she's a bit shy, like.

ThÉrÈse. You mean Mother Bougne. You, workmen yourselves, mock at an old woman wrecked by work. But you're right. She ought to be here. I'll go and fetch her. Only to look at her would be an argument on our side. [She goes out to the right]

Deschaume. Mademoiselle ThÉrÈse needn't kick up such a dust about a little thing like that. There's four on us; so there must be four on you, in case we have to take a vote.

ThÉrÈse [to the workmen] Give me a chair. [They do so] Sit down, Mother Bougne. [Insisting] Mother Bougne, sit down.

Mother Bougne. Oh, don't trouble, miss, I'm not used to—

ThÉrÈse [sharply] Sit down.

Charpin. Well, here's the bloomin' bunch of us.

Deschaume. We'd best fix up a chairman.

Girard. What's the good of that?

Deschaume. We'd best have you, Girard. You've education, and you're up to all the dodges about public meetings.

Girard. It's not worth while.

Deschaume. Well, I only put it forrard because it's the usual. But have it your own way! [A silence] Only don't all jaw at once. You'll see you'll want a chairman, I tell you that, but I don't care. It ain't my show.

Charpin. Get a move on you, Girard, and speak up.

Girard. Well, ladies—

Vincent [interrupting] Now look here. I want to get at an understandin'.

ThÉrÈse. Monsieur Girard, will you be kind enough to speak for your friends? We have nothing to say on our part. We're asking for nothing.

Girard. Well, that's true. We want to have the mending back.

ThÉrÈse. And we don't mean to give it up.

Girard. Well, we expected that. Now, to show you that we're not such a bad lot as you think, we'll share it with you on two conditions. The first is that you're paid the same wages as we are.

Deschaume. Look here, that won't suit me at all, that won't. If my old woman gets as much as me, how am I to keep her under? Blimey, she'll think she's my bloomin' equal!

Girard [impatiently] Oh, bung her into some other berth. Let me go on. The second condition is that you aren't to have a separate workshop. We'll all work together as we used to.

ThÉrÈse. Why?

Deschaume. You women do a damned sight too much for your ha'pence.

Girard. Yes, it's all in the interests of the masters. It's against solidarity.

ThÉrÈse. Will you allow me to express my astonishment that you should make conditions with us when you wish to take something from us?

Charpin. We're ony tellin' you our terms for sharing the work with you.

ThÉrÈse. I quite understand; but we have no desire to share it with you. We mean to keep it. And I'm greatly surprised to hear you suggest that we should all work together.

Constance. Indeed we won't.

Deschaume. Why not, Mademoiselle? When we worked together—

Constance [interrupting] When we worked with you before, you played all sorts of dirty tricks on us to make us leave.

Deschaume. What tricks? Did you hear anything about that, Charpin?

Charpin. I dunnow what she's talkin' about. D'you Vincent?

Vincent. Look here, I only want to get to an understandin'.

Constance. You never stopped sayin' beastly things.

Deschaume and Charpin [protesting together] Oh! O-ho!

Deschaume. Well, if we can't have a bit of chippin' in a friendly way like!

Berthe. Beastly things like that ain't jokes. I didn't know where to look meself; and I've sat for a sculptor, so I ain't too particular.

Charpin. He! He! I thought she was talkin' about that old joke of the rats.

ThÉrÈse. Yes, you're laughing about it still! About shutting up live rats in our desks before we came to work.

Girard. He! He! We didn't mean any harm.

ThÉrÈse. You didn't mean any harm! The little apprentice was ill for a week, and Madame Dumont had a bad fall. You thought of dozens of things of that kind, like the typists who mixed up all the letters on the women's desks. When we went away to get our lunch, you came and spoilt our work and made the women lose a great part of their day's pay or work hours of overtime. We don't want any more of that. You agreed we should have a separate workshop. We'll keep it.

Girard. If Monsieur FÉliat sticks to you, we'll have to come out on strike.

ThÉrÈse. We don't want Monsieur FÉliat to get into trouble because of us.

Girard. Well, what are you going to do about it?

ThÉrÈse. We'll take your places.

Charpin [bringing his fist down with a bang upon the table] Well, I'm damned!

Deschaume [threateningly] If you do, we'll have to put you through it!

Constance. We'll do it!

Girard [to ThÉrÈse] D'you understand now, Mademoiselle, why we socialists don't want women in the factory or in the workshop? The woman's the devil because of the low salary she has to take. She's a victim, and she likes to be a victim, and so she's the best card the employer has to play against a strike. The women are too weak, and if I might say so, too slavish—

Deschaume. Yes, that's the word, mate, slavish.

Berthe [very angry] Look at that man there, my husband, and hear what he's saying before me, his wife, that he makes obey him like a dog. He beats me, he does. You don't trouble about my being what you call slavish when it's you that profits by it! I'd like to know who taught women to be slavish but husbands like you.

ThÉrÈse. You've so impressed it upon women that they're inferior to men, that they've ended by believing it.

Girard. Well, maybe there's exceptions, but it's true in the main.

Deschaume. Let 'em stay at home, I says, and cook the bloomin' dinner.

Berthe. And what'll they cook the days when you spend all your wages in booze.

Girard. It's the people that started you working that you ought to curse.

Berthe. I like that! It was my husband himself that brought me to the workshop.

ThÉrÈse. She's not the only one, eh, Vincent?

Vincent. But I ain't sayin' nothin', I ain't. What are you turnin' on me for? I ain't sayin' nothin'.

Berthe. We'd like nothing better than to stay at home. Why don't you support us there?

Constance. It's because you don't support us there that you've got to let us work.

Deschaume. We ain't going to.

Berthe. We won't give in to you.

Girard. If you don't, we'll turn the job in.

ThÉrÈse. And I tell you that we shall take your places.

Deschaume. Rats! You can't do it.

ThÉrÈse. We couldn't at one time, that's true. But now we've got the machines. The machines drove the women from their homes. Up to lately one had to have a man's strength for the work; now, by just pulling a lever, a woman can do as much and more than the strongest man. The machines revenge us.

Deschaume. We'll smash the things.

Girard. She's right. By God, she's right! It's them machines has done it. If any one had told my grandfather a time would come when one chap could keep thousands of spindles running and make hundreds of pairs of stockings in a day, and yards and yards of woollen stuff, and socks and shirts and all, why grandfather'd've thought everybody'd have shirts and socks and comforters and shoes, and there'd be no more hard work and empty bellies. Curse the damned things! We works longer hours, and there's just as many bare feet and poor devils shivering for want of clothes. The machines were to give us everything, blast 'em! The workers are rotten fools! The damned machines have made nothing but hate between them that own them and them that work them. They've used up the women and even the children; and it's all to sell the things they make to niggers or Chinamen; and maybe we'll have war about it. They've made the middle classes rich, and they're the starvation of all of us; and after they've done all that, here are the women, our own women, want to help 'em to best us!

Mother Bougne. You're right, Girard. When I was a kid, and there was no machines—leastways, not to speak of—we was all better off. Women stayed at home, and they'd got enough to do. Why, my old grandmother used to fetch water from the well and be out pickin' up sticks before it was light of a mornin'! Yes, and women made their own bread, and did their washin', and made their bits of things themselves! Now it's machines for everythin', and they say to us: "Come into the factory and you'll earn big money." And we come, like silly kids! Why, fancy me, eight years old, taken out of the village and bunged into a spinnin' mill! Then, when I was married, there was me in a workman's dwellin'. You turn a tap for your water, don't fetch it; baker's bread, and your bit of dinner from the cookshop, or preserved meat out of a tin. You don't make a fire, you turn on the gas; your stockin's and togs all fetched out of a shop. There ain't no need for the women to stay at home no longer, so they cuts down the men's wages and puts us in the factories. We ain't got time to suckle our kids; and now they don't want young 'uns any more! But when you're in the factory, they make yer pay through the nose for yer gas and yer water, and baker's bread and ready-made togs; and you've got nothin' left out of yer bit of wages, and you're as poor as ever; and you're only a "hand" at machines in the damp and smoke, instead of bein' in your own house an' decent like. What are you fussin' about, Girard? Don't you see that we can't go back to the old times now? A woman ain't got a house now, only a little room with nothin' but a dirty bed to sleep on! And I tell you, Girard, you've got to let us earn our livin' like that now, because it's you and the likes of you that's brought us to it.

Girard. Well, after all, we've got to look after our living. The women want to take it from us.

Mother Bougne. It's because they haven't got any themselves, my lad. They've got to live as well as you, you see.

Girard. And supposing there isn't enough living for everybody?

Mother Bougne. The strongest'll get it and the weak 'uns'll be done in.

Girard. Well, we've not made the world, and we're not going to have our work taken away from us.

Constance. And we're not, either.

Deschaume. Damn it all, we've got to live.

Berthe. Well, we've got to live too. The kids has got to live and we've got to live. One would think we was brute beasts.

Constance. We say just the same as you. We've not made the world, it ain't our fault.

A Woman [at the door] It ain't our fault.

A Man. So much the worse for you.

Another Woman. We've got to live, we've got to live!

Another Man. Ain't we got to live too?

ThÉrÈse. Well, don't drink so much.

A Woman [bursting out laughing] Ha! Ha! Ha!

Women. Right, Mademoiselle! Well done! Good!

Berthe. You won't get our work away from us.

Deschaume. It's our work; you took it.

Berthe. You gave it up to us.

A Man. Well, we'll take it back from you.

Another Man. We were wrong.

Another Man. Drive out the Hens.

Another Man. The strike! Long live the strike! We'll come out!

A Woman. We'll take your places; we've got to live.

A Man. There's no living for you here.

A Woman. Yes there is; we'll take yours.

ThÉrÈse. Yes, we'll take yours. And your wife that you brought here yourself will take your place, Vincent. And you the same, Deschaume. She'll take your place, and it'll serve you right. You can stay at home and do the mending to amuse yourself.

Girard [to the women] This woman from Paris is turning the heads of the lot of you.

Charpin. Yes, that's about the size of it.

Vincent. She don't play the game. She does as she bloomin' well likes. She wouldn't engage my old woman. She took women from Duriot's.

Girard [to ThÉrÈse] That's it. It's you that's doing it. [To the women] You've got to ask the same wages as us.

ThÉrÈse. You know very well—

Girard [interrupting] It's all along of your damned Union.

Vincent. There wasn't any ructions till you come.

Charpin. We'll smash the Hens' Union.

A Man. Put 'em through it! Down 'em! Smash the Hens! Smash 'em!

A Woman. Turn out the lazy swines!

A Woman [half mad with excitement] We're fightin' for our kids. [She shrieks this phrase continuously during the noise which follows]

Berthe. Turn out the lazy swines!

Deschaume [shaking his wife] Shut up, blast you, shut up!

Another Man [holding him back] Don't strike her!

Deschaume. It's my wife; can't I do as I like? [To Berthe] Get out, you!

Berthe. I won't!

A Man. Damn her, she's hurt me!

Another Man. It's her scissors! Get hold of her scissors.

ThÉrÈse. They'll kill one another! [To the women] Go home, go home; they'll kill you. Go home at once.

A Woman. Oh, you brutes! Oh, you brutes!

Girard [to FÉliat] Deschaume's bin hurt, sir.

FÉliat. He must be taken to the Infirmary.

Deschaume [excitedly] With her scissors she did it, blast 'er!

Charpin. The police, send for the police!

Girard. Don't be a bally fool. We can take care of ourselves, can't we, without the bloomin' coppers.

Deschaume [shouting] The police, send for the police! To protect the right to work. Send for 'em.

Girard [to Monsieur FÉliat] If 't was to bully us, you'd have sent for 'em long ago. What are you waiting for?

FÉliat. I'm waiting till you kindly allow me to speak. I can't believe my ears. Is it you, Girard, and you, Deschaume, who want to have the police sent for to save you from a pack of women? Ha! Ha!

Charpin. Oh, it makes you laugh, does it?

Girard. You defend the cats because they're against us. Well, we won't have it. Duriot's men came out—

Charpin. Yes, and we'll do the same.

Deschaume. We will. Look out for the strike!

Girard. We're agreed; ain't we, mates?

Charpin and Deschaume [together] Yes, yes. We'll strike. Let's strike.

FÉliat. You don't really mean that you're going on strike?

Girard. Don't we, though!

FÉliat. How can you? I've given everything you've asked for.

Charpin [growling] That's just the reason.

Girard. If you've given in, that shows we were right. You'll have to give in some more.

FÉliat. Good God, what d'you want now?

Charpin. We want you to sack all the women.

Deschaume. No we don't. We want you to sack Mademoiselle ThÉrÈse.

FÉliat. You're mad! What harm has she done you?

Girard. The harm she's done us? Well, she's on your side.

Deschaume. She's turned the women's heads. They want to take our places.

Charpin. And we won't have it.

FÉliat. Come! Be reasonable. You can't ask me that.

Girard. We do ask you that.

FÉliat. It will upset my whole business.

Charpin. What's that to us?

FÉliat. Well, I must have time to think about it.

Girard. There's nothing to think about. Sack the Paris woman or we go on strike.

FÉliat. You can't put a pistol to my head like this. I've got orders in hand.

Girard. What's that to us?

FÉliat. Well then, I won't give in this time. You demanded that I should not open a new workshop. I gave in. I won't go further than that.

Girard. Then out we go.

FÉliat. Well go, and be damned to you. [Pause] The women will take your places.

Girard. You think so, do you? You think it's as easy as that. Well, try. Just you try to fill up our places. Have you forgot there's two delegates here from the Central Committee? A phone to Paris and your bally show is done for.

FÉliat. It's damnable.

Girard. And if that doesn't choke you off, there's other things.

Charpin. We'll set the whole bloomin' place on fire.

Girard. Don't you try to bully us.

FÉliat. Well, look here. We won't quarrel. I'll send away Mademoiselle ThÉrÈse. But give me a little time to settle things up.

Charpin. No; out she goes.

FÉliat. Give me a month. I ask only a month.

Girard. An hour, that's all you'll get, an hour.

Charpin. An hour, not more.

Girard. We're going off to meet the delegates at the Hotel de la Poste; you can send your answer there. The Parisian goes out sharp now, or else look out for trouble. Come on, boys, let's go and tell the others. There's nothing more to do here.

FÉliat. But stop, listen—

Charpin [to FÉliat] That's our last word. [To the others] Hurry on.

The workmen go out. ThÉrÈse has come in a moment before and is standing on the threshold.