ANTHONY. You think with your gloved hands you can cure the trouble of the century.
[He passes on. ]
ENID. Father!
[ANTHONY Stops at the double doors.]
I'm only thinking of you!
ANTHONY. [More softly.] I can take care of myself, my dear.
ENID. Have you thought what'll happen if you're beaten— [she points]—in there?
ANTHONY. I don't mean to be.
ENID. Oh! Father, don't give them a chance. You're not well; need you go to the meeting at all?
ANTHONY. [With a grim smile.] Cut and run?