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.] Ye wonder why I
tell ye that? Every man of us is going short. We can't be no worse
off than we've been these weeks past. Ye need n't think that by
waiting yell drive us to come in. We'll die first, the whole lot of
us. The men have sent for ye to know, once and for all, whether ye
are going to grant them their demands. I see the sheet of paper in
the Secretary's hand. [TENCH moves nervously.] That's it, I think,
Mr. Tench. It's not very large.

TENCH. [Nodding.] Yes.

ROBERTS. There's not one sentence of writing on that paper that we
can do without.

[A movement amongst the men. ROBERTS turns on them sharply.]

Isn't that so?