TIMSON. On me larst legs, sir. 'Ere! You can see 'em for yerself! Shawn't trouble yer long....
WELLWYN. [After a long and desperate stare.] Not now—TIMSON not now! Take this! [He takes out another card, and hands it to TIMSON] Some other time.
TIMSON. [Taking the card.] Yer new address! You are a gen'leman. [He lurches slowly away.]
[ANN shuts the street door and sets her back against it. The rumble of the approaching van is heard outside. It ceases.]
ANN. [In a fateful voice.] Daddy! [They stare at each other.] Do you know what you've done? Given your card to those six rotters.
WELLWYN. [With a blank stare.] Six?
ANN. [Staring round the naked room.] What was the good of this?
WELLWYN. [Following her eyes—-very gravely.] Ann! It is stronger than me.
[Without a word ANN opens the door, and walks straight out. With a heavy sigh, WELLWYN sinks down on the little stool before the fire. The three humble-men come in.]
CHIEF HUMBLE-MAN. [In an attitude of expectation.] This is the larst of it, sir.