MRS. ROBERTS. [Appealingly.] They tell me I don't look like a dyin' woman?
ENID. Of course you don't; if you could only have proper—- Will you see my doctor if I send him to you? I'm sure he'd do you good.
MRS. ROBERTS. [With faint questioning.] Yes, M'm.
ENID. Madge Thomas ought n't to come here; she only excites you. As if I did n't know what suffering there is amongst the men! I do feel for them dreadfully, but you know they have gone too far.
MRS. ROBERTS. [Continually moving her fingers.] They say there's no other way to get better wages, M'm.
ENID. [Earnestly.] But, Annie, that's why the Union won't help them. My husband's very sympathetic with the men, but he says they are not underpaid.
MRS. ROBERTS. No, M'm?
ENID. They never think how the Company could go on if we paid the wages they want.
MRS. ROBERTS. [With an effort.] But the dividends having been so big, M'm.
ENID. [Takes aback.] You all seem to think the shareholders are rich men, but they're not—most of them are really no better off than working men.