ENID. It's dreadful going on with the men in this state. I do hope the Dad will make concessions.
EDGAR. He won't. [Gloomily.] It's a sort of religion with him.
Curse it! I know what's coming! He'll be voted down.
ENID. They would n't dare!
EDGAR. They will—they're in a funk.
ENID. [Indignantly.] He'd never stand it!
EDGAR. [With a shrug.] My dear girl, if you're beaten in a vote, you've got to stand it.
ENID. Oh! [She gets up in alarm.] But would he resign?
EDGAR. Of course! It goes to the roots of his beliefs.
ENID. But he's so wrapped up in this company, Ted! There'd be nothing left for him! It'd be dreadful!
[EDGAR shrugs his shoulders.]