ANTHONY. No! [Again they look at him.]
UNDERWOOD. Roberts won't let the men assent to that.
SCANTLEBURY. Fanatic! Fanatic!
WILDER. [Looking at ANTHONY.] And not the only one! [FROST enters from the hall.]
FROST. [To ANTHONY.] Mr. Harness from the Union, waiting, sir. The men are here too, sir.
[ANTHONY nods. UNDERWOOD goes to the door, returning with
HARNESS, a pale, clean-shaven man with hollow cheeks, quick
eyes, and lantern jaw—FROST has retired.]
UNDERWOOD. [Pointing to TENCH'S chair.] Sit there next the
Chairman, Harness, won't you?
[At HARNESS'S appearance, the Board have drawn together, as it
were, and turned a little to him, like cattle at a dog.]
HARNESS. [With a sharp look round, and a bow.] Thanks! [He sits—- his accent is slightly nasal.] Well, gentlemen, we're going to do business at last, I hope.
WILDER. Depends on what you call business, Harness. Why don't you make the men come in?