EPHRAIM (awkwardly). You've made it rather hard to tell you that. I didn't know you thought so badly of the factories. (Turning.) Guy, I think, perhaps——
GUY (curtly). No. If you won't speak out, I will.
(Slight pause. Then Ephraim gives Guy leave by a glance.) We want you to come into the factory, Butterworth.
MATTHEW (startled). I? In factory?
GUY. Yes.
MATTHEW. But——
GUY. You're the last man on our pay-sheets working out. We must have uniformity. We want you in.
MATTHEW. You want me, Mr. Guy. I can see who 'tis I have to thank for this. It's you that have brought the old master here to stand by while you say these things to me.
GUY. Well, as it happened, you're so far wrong that I'd no intention of coming in at all, only I was going home from a walk (glancing away, as if after Ruth), and met him on his way here.
MATTHEW (to Ephraim). Mr. Barlow, it isn't your wish that I——