Private from Will? Nay, it isn't. Will's in the family--
(_comes back a little_),--and you've nowt to say to me that
can't be said to him.
HOBSON. I've to tell you this with him there?
MAGGIE. Will and me's one.
WILLIE. Sit down, Mr. Hobson.
MAGGIE. You call him father now.
WILLIE (_astonished_). Do I?
HOBSON. Does he?
MAGGIE. He does. Sit down, Will.
(WILL _sits right of table_. MAGGIE _stands at the head of
the table_. HOBSON _sits on sofa_.)
Now, if you're ready, father, we are. What's the matter?
HOBSON. That--(_producing the blue paper_)--that's the
matter.
(MAGGIE _accepts and passes it to_ WILL _and goes behind
his chair. He is reading upside down. She bends over chair and
turns it right way up_.)
MAGGIE. What is it, Will?
HOBSON (_banging table_). Ruin, Maggie, that's what it is!
Ruin and bankruptcy. Am I vicar's warden at St. Philip's or am I
not? Am I Hobson of Hobson's Boot Shop on Chapel Street, Salford?
Am I a respectable ratepayer and the father of a family or--
MAGGIE (_who has been reading over_ WILL'S _shoulder_).
It's an action for damages for trespass, I see.
HOBSON. It's a stab in the back, it's an unfair, un-English,
cowardly way of taking a mean advantage of a casual accident.
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