Mont. And you mean to tell me we've been living on the edge of a volcano all these years? Ste. You've been living in Sir Charles' almshouses for decayed gentlefolk. That's our name for it in the town. Vin. Sir! Ste. (_calmly_). It's the truth. What did it matter to him how little he got out of you meantime? He knew very well it's a fortune waiting for him whenever he wants it. Mont. I'd no idea of this. (_Sits below fire._) Ste. You know now. If you hadn't been so busy with thinking what nice people you were and what nasty brutes lived outside you'd have found it out for yourselves. Not one of you's on lease. You can all be turned out at six months' notice. Vin. We trusted to Sir Charles' sense of honour. Ste. I wouldn't trust him with sixpence, and I'm a sound Tory at that. Vin. I still think you're wrong, sir. You've given us your view. We're much obliged. (_Sits l._) Ste. (_sneering_). You'd be more obliged if I'd given you your petition. Vin. Your view was unexpected. Ste. Was it? (_Turning to Walter._) I thought he'd told you. Vin. Unexpectedly strong. Ste. You've not heard the half of it. You've been the bane of the town. It's a working town and it does the working man no good to have the sight of a lot of idle people living well and doing nothing for it. Breeds discontent. Makes him ask questions. That's what you've been to us. A public nuisance. Easy game for every agitator to have his shy at. Do you think we employers loved you? They didn't mind us. They could see we worked for our living. But you set of do-nothing wastrels---- Walter (_c._). Mr. Verity! (_Vining rises and goes up to back, returns, then round to R. c._) Ste. What's to do? You've been saying the same to them yourself, haven't you? Walter. I did my best to gild the pill. Ste. Well, I'm not a parson. I haven't the gift of using big words for little 'uns and talking sweetly about Hell. Vin. (_dropping r. of Walter to below him_). Well, now look here, Mr. Verity, you needn't suppose that I'm influenced in the slightest by your extremely forcible language, but a possible compromise occurs to me. Ste. Does it? I thought I heard you say just now "no compromise." Vin. (_r. c._). This is a compromise of my own suggesting, sir. Ste. I'm not the compromising sort. Still, go ahead. What's your idea? Vin. It's this, sir. I grant you we're drones, and I can see there's something in what you say about the sight of a few idle people taking a lot of room, though I take exception to the way you put it. Ste. (_drily_). Aye. Vin. (_r. c._). Now we've an affection for these houses of ours. Ste. Of Sir Charles'. Vin. Yes, of Sir Charles'. We're attached to the bricks and mortar. You can understand it. Ste. I never thought you'd shift willing.