GERALD. They're trying every day. They just simply couldn't control modern industry—they haven't the intelligence. They've no LIFE intelligence. The owners may have little enough, but Labour has none. They're just mechanical little things that can make one or two motions, and they're done. They've no more idea of life than a lawn-mower has.
JOB ARTHUR. It remains to be seen.
GERALD. No, it doesn't. It's perfectly obvious—there's nothing remains to be seen. All that Labour is capable of, is smashing things up. And even for that I don't believe it has either the energy or the courage or the bit of necessary passion, or slap-dash—call it whatever you will. However, we'll see.
JOB ARTHUR. Yes, sir. Perhaps you see now why you're not so very popular, Mr. Gerald.
GERALD. We can't all be popular, Job Arthur. You're very high up in popularity, I believe.
JOB ARTHUR. Not so very. They listen to me a bit. But you never know when they'll let you down. I know they'll let me down one day—so it won't be a surprise.
GERALD. I should think not.
JOB ARTHUR. But about the office men, Mr. Gerald. You think it'll be all right?
GERALD. Oh, yes, that'll be all right.
JOB ARTHUR. Easiest for this time, anyhow, sir. We don't want bloodshed, do we?