Ste. (backing in alarm). Mr. Pilling!
Jim. Oh, I'm not blind, if I was brought up in the country. They didn't learn me there to vote against my master, either. I take Mr. Vining's money and——
Ste. But man alive, how's he to know which way you vote? The ballot's secret.
Jim (sceptically). Oh, aye, we've heard that tale before.
Ste. (irritated). But it is secret.
Jim (unconvinced). That's what they tell you. And if it is, it's not secret from me. I'd know how I voted. And I couldn't hold out my hand for wages from a man when I'd voted opposite to him. I'm not built that way.
Ste. (disgustedly). Jim Pilling, I thought you'd more sense.
Jim. I've a sense of right and wrong.
Ste. Yes, the sense that your employer's always right.
Jim. It makes no matter if he's right or wrong. He's still my employer. A man can't vote against the gentleman that gives him bread and butter, and Mr. Vining's a real gentleman, mind you. (With enthusiastic admiration). I never saw him raise his hand to do a thing himself yet.