(Enter an elderly maid, lower right.)

MAID. Timothy Farrell, the foreman's here,

(Enter, lower right, TIMOTHY, a big Irishman of about sixty, in
working clothes.)

TIMOTHY. Here I am, sir. They're after sending word you wanted me.

GEORGE (going up to TIMOTHY and shaking his hand warmly). Old Timothy!
I'm glad to get sight of you before I go.

TIMOTHY. And it's glad I am to see you, Mr. George, before you leave.
And he an officer now! Sure, I mind him as a baby being wheeled up and
down under the trees out there. My boy Bert was saying only this morning
how we'd missed the sight of him in the shops this summer. You have a
way with the men, Mr. George, of getting into their hearts, like. I was
thinking just now, if Mr. George had only been home, in the shops, maybe
we wouldn't be having all this complaint and trouble.

GEORGE. Who's at the bottom of this, Timothy? Rench? Hillman? I
thought so. Well, they're not bad chaps when you get under their skins.

(He glances at his wrist watch)

Let me go down and talk with them, dad,--I've got time, my train doesn't
leave until one thirty.

ASHER (impatiently, almost savagely). No, I'll settle this, George, this