MAGGIE. You and him didn't part on the best of terms, you
know. (_Over the railings_.) Will, it's my father. Is he to
come in?

WILLIE (_loudly and boldly_). Aye, let him come.

(HOBSON _comes downstairs_. MAGGIE _closes door behind him
and follows_. HOBSON _stares round at the cellar_.)

HOBSON. You don't sound cordial about your invitation, young man.

WILLIE (_rises and goes_ C.). Nay, but I am. (_Shaking
hands for a long time_.) I'm right down glad to see you, Mr.
Hobson. (MAGGIE _comes down_ R.) It makes the wedding-day
complete-like, you being her father and I--I hope you'll see your
way to staying a good long while.

HOBSON. Well--

MAGGIE. That's enough, Will. You don't need to overdo it. You can
sit down for five minutes, father. That sofa 'ull bear your
weight. It's been tested.

(HOBSON _sits on sofa_, R. C. WILLIE _goes back to the
chair_, R.)

WILLIE (_taking up teapot_). There's nobbut tea to drink and
I reckon what's in the pot is stewed, so I'll--