THOMAS. No! But, man, what made ye come?
ROBERTS. Ye told us this morning, gentlemen, to go away and reconsider our position. We have reconsidered it; we are here to bring you the men's answer. [To ANTHONY.] Go ye back to London. We have nothing for you. By no jot or tittle do we abate our demands, nor will we until the whole of those demands are yielded.
[ANTHONY looks at him but does not speak. There is a movement amongst the men as though they were bewildered.]
HARNESS. Roberts!
ROBERTS. [Glancing fiercely at him, and back to ANTHONY.] Is that clear enough for ye? Is it short enough and to the point? Ye made a mistake to think that we would come to heel. Ye may break the body, but ye cannot break the spirit. Get back to London, the men have nothing for ye?
[Pausing uneasily he takes a step towards the unmoving ANTHONY.]
EDGAR. We're all sorry for you, Roberts, but——
ROBERTS. Keep your sorrow, young man. Let your father speak!
HARNESS. [With the sheet of paper in his hand, speaking from behind the little table.] Roberts!
ROBERT. [TO ANTHONY, with passionate intensity.] Why don't ye answer?