Right, Sir!
[Throughout all that follows, he and ANTHONY look fixedly upon
each other. Men and Directors show in their various ways
suppressed uneasiness, as though listening to words that they
themselves would not have spoken.]
The men can't afford to travel up to London; and they don't trust you
to believe what they say in black and white. They know what the post
is [he darts a look at UNDERWOOD and TENCH], and what Directors'
meetings are: "Refer it to the manager--let the manager advise us on
the men's condition. Can we squeeze them a little more?"
UNDERWOOD. [In a low voice.] Don't hit below the belt, Roberts!
ROBERTS. Is it below the belt, Mr. Underwood? The men know. When I
came up to London, I told you the position straight. An' what came
of it? I was told I did n't know what I was talkin' about. I can't
afford to travel up to London to be told that again.
ANTHONY. What have you to say for the men?
ROBERTS. I have this to say--and first as to their condition. Ye
shall 'ave no need to go and ask your manager. Ye can't squeeze them
any more. Every man of us is well-nigh starving. [A surprised
murmur rises from the men. ROBERTS looks round.
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