JABEZ. Look here, my lad, I asked you a plain question, and I'll thank you for a plain answer. Charlie. I thought I'd given you one.
JABEZ. What made you choose the laboratory? Charlie. I thought I saw some shadowy hope of doing good there.
JABEZ. Well, you've done a bit. I'll give you credit for that.
CHARLIE. Not that kind of good. That was accidental. I only hit by chance on the processes which happened to prove profitable to you.
JABEZ. By chance? Then what the devil were you driving at with my time and my chemicals?
CHARLIE. I hoped to find some means of accomplishing what we do here by less dangerous methods to let a little health into the work. I saw strong workmen brought to these works in the prime of life and health, and in a few years turned away, broken, worn-out invalids. I worked to find a way out.
JABEZ (contemptuously). You fool.
CHARLIE. I quite agree. (Rises and paces up and down.) Yes, fool, fool, fool. Fool as much as if I'd sought the philosopher's stone or the elixir of life. I did seek the elixir of life, and I will go on seeking it—life for those helpless hundreds driven by the need to live to certain death. Let me go on. Let me hope; but do not ask me to assist in getting orders for our deadly production. Every contract you sign your name to is the death-warrant of a workman. (Sitting on arm of sofa.)
JOHN (imploringly). Charlie!
JABEZ. Have a little common sense, man. You're seeing things to-night. This accident's got on your nerves. (Rises.) After all, I think you had better go home. We'll talk this over another time. I haven't lost my temper yet and I don't want to. (Putting his hand on Charlie's shoulder.) Come now, admit that you're not quite yourself.