MAGGIE (_dropping his hands_.) And needed none. You're a
natural born genius at making boots. It's a pity you're a natural
fool at all else.
WILLIE. I'm not much good at owt but leather, and that's a fact.
MAGGIE. When are you going to leave Hobson's?
WILLIE. Leave Hobson's? I--I thought I gave satisfaction.
MAGGIE. Don't you want to leave?
WILLIE. Not me. I've been at Hobson's all my life, and I'm not
for leaving till I'm made.
MAGGIE. I said you were a fool.
WILLIE. Then I'm a loyal fool.
MAGGIE. Don't you want to get on, Will Mossop? You heard what
Mrs. Hepworth said. You know the wages you get and you know the
wages a bootmaker like you could get in one of the big shops in
Manchester.
WILLIE. Nay, I'd be feared to go in them fine places.
MAGGIE. What keeps you here? Is it the--the people?
WILLIE. I dunno what it is. I'm used to being here.
MAGGIE. Do you know what keeps this business on its legs? Two
things: one's the good boots you make that sell themselves, the
other's the bad boots other people make and I sell. We're a pair,
Will Mossop.
WILLIE. You're a wonder in the shop, Miss Maggie.
MAGGIE. And you're a marvel in the workshop. Well?
WILLIE. Well, what?
MAGGIE. It seems to me to point one way.
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