Guéret. You think so, do you? Well, you'll see.
Guéret. You'll give in only after they've broken two or three of your machines as they did Duriot's, or done something worse, perhaps.
Féliat. My dear Guéret, I get out of the women for a cent what I have to pay the men three cents for. And as long as I can economize ten cents on the piece I shall go on.
Guéret. You'll regret it. If I was in your place—[He stops]
Féliat. Well, what would you do if you were in my place?
Guéret. What should I do?
Féliat. Yes, what?
Guéret. I shouldn't take long to think. I'd cut off a finger to save my hand, I'd turn out every one of the women to-morrow.
Féliat. You're mad. You've always objected to my employing women, and I know very well why.