MATT. Well, I'm glad to see you here, and if so be as bread and cheese and ale are not beneath you, there's enough for all.
EPHRAIM (half heartedly). Well, thankee, Matt Butterworth——
GUY (interrupting). No. It's business brings us here, not eating. (To Matthew.) My father has something to say to you.
(At a glance from Matthew, Mary and Ruth go out.)
EPHRAIM. Yes, I thought I'd come and tell you here instead of sending for you up to factory.
MATTHEW (grimly). It's as well you did come. You'd not have got me there by sending. I've never entered factory gate and never will.
EPHRAIM (good-naturedly). You're a pig-headed old stick in-the-mud, Matt. You won't move with the times.
MATTHEW. Not when the times move to factories.
EPHRAIM. Well, well, you're an obstinate fellow. What's wrong with factories?
MATTHEW. What isn't wrong? They're bits of hell spewed up on earth.