HOBSON. Oh yes. Mrs. Hepworth's an old and valued customer of
mine.

JIM. It's funny you deal with Hope Hall and never mentioned it.

HOBSON. Why, I've made boots for her and all her circle for...
how long, Maggie? Oh, I dunno.

JIM. You kept it dark. Well, aren't you coming round yonder?
(_Moving up_ L.)

HOBSON (_reaching for his hat_). Yes. That is, no.

JIM. Are you ill?

HOBSON. No. Get away, you girls. I'll look after the shop. I want
to talk to Mr. Heeler.

JIM. Well, can't you talk in the "Moonraker's"!

(_The girls go out_ R. _to house_, MAGGIE _last_.)

HOBSON. Yes, with Sam Minns, and Denton and Tudsbury there.

JIM. It's private, then. What's the trouble, Henry?

(HOBSON _waves_ JIM _into arm-chair_ R. C. _and sits
in front of counter_.)

HOBSON. They're the trouble. (_Indicates door to house_.) Do