Later the same night. Scene as Act II. Wine and glasses on table. The curtains are drawn apart and the glare of the burning factory is seen. Ephraim and John are in the window.
JOHN. It's a sad sight, Barlow.
EPHRAIM. A sight I cannot bear to see. Shut it out. Shut it out. (He draws curtains.)
(John lays a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, and Ephraim goes slowly to chair by fireplace.)
I built it, Heppenstall, the first factory in these parts, fifteen years ago, and there it's stood through all these years a monument of enterprise, until I'd grown to love the very stone of it. They mocked me when I put it up. They called it Barlow's Folly. But I knew. I knew machinery had come to stay, and now new factories are springing up, and building one to-day is not the same great thing it was. The glamour's gone.
JOHN. But you'll rebuild.
EPHRAIM. Guy will rebuild. I doubt if I shall care for what he does. This night has broken me.
JOHN. Come, come, now, don't give way like that. Ephraim. It's easy talk for you. Your factory is sound. They've left it standing.
JOHN. Aye. You were the scapegoats.
EPHRAIM. And all my business checked. Customers to disappoint. Connections broken and——