ASHER. Oh, you're here, George.
GEORGE (looking, at ASHER). Something troubling you?
ASHER (attempting dissimulation). Well, you're going off to France, they've only given you two days' leave, and I've scarcely seen anything of you. Isn't that enough?
GEORGE. I know how busy you've been with that government contract on your hands. I wish I could help.
ASHER. You're in the army now, my boy. You can help me again when you come back.
GEORGE. I want to get time to go down to the shops and say goodbye to some of the men.
ASHER. No, I shouldn't do that, George.
GEORGE (surprised). Why not? I used to be pretty chummy with them, you know,—smoke a pipe with them occasionally in the noon hour.
ASHER. I know. But it doesn't do for an employer to be too familiar with the hands in these days.
GEORGE. I guess I've got a vulgar streak in me somewhere, I get along with the common people. There'll be lots of them in the trenches, dad.