WILLIE. Aye, it's there. And you wrote it, Maggie. MAGGIE. I knew better than to trust to you. "Business suspended for the day" it says, and they that can't read it can go on knocking. HOBSON (_off_ R. _upstairs, after another knock_). Are you in, Maggie? VICKEY (_terrified_). It's father! (_General consternation_.) ALBERT. Oh, Lord! MAGGIE. What's the matter? Are you afraid of him? FREDDY. Well, I think, all things considered, and seeing-- MAGGIE. All right. We'll consider 'em. You can go into the bedroom, the lot of you.... No, not you, Willie. The rest. I'll shout when I want you. ALICE. When he's gone. MAGGIE. It'll be before he's gone. (MAGGIE _crosses to_ L. _with them_.) VICKEY. But we don't want-- MAGGIE. Is this your house or mine? VICKEY. It's your cellar. MAGGIE. And I'm in charge of it. (_The four go into bedroom_. VICKEY _starts to argue_. ALBERT _opens the door_. VICKEY _and_ ALICE _go out followed by_ FREDDY _and_ ALBERT. VICKEY _is pushed inside_. WILL _is going to stairs_.) You sit you still, and don't forget you're gaffer here. I'll open door. (WILLIE _sits in chair above table_. MAGGIE _goes upstairs and opens the door. Enter_ HOBSON _to top stair_.) HOBSON (_with some slight apology_). Well, Maggie. MAGGIE (_uninvitingly_). Well, father. HOBSON (_without confidence_). I'll come in. MAGGIE (_standing in his way_). Well, I don't know. I'll have to ask the master about that. HOBSON. Eh? The master? MAGGIE. You and him didn't part on the best of terms, you know. (_Over the railings_.) Will, it's my father. Is he to come in? WILLIE (_loudly and boldly_). Aye, let him come. (HOBSON _comes downstairs_. MAGGIE _closes door behind him and follows_. HOBSON _stares round at the cellar_.) HOBSON. You don't sound cordial about your invitation, young man. WILLIE (_rises and goes_ C.). Nay, but I am. (_Shaking hands for a long time_.) I'm right down glad to see you, Mr. Hobson. (MAGGIE _comes down_ R.) It makes the wedding-day complete-like, you being her father and I--I hope you'll see your way to staying a good long while. HOBSON. Well-- MAGGIE. That's enough, Will. You don't need to overdo it. You can sit down for five minutes, father. That sofa 'ull bear your weight. It's been tested. (HOBSON _sits on sofa_, R. C. WILLIE _goes back to the chair_, R.) WILLIE (_taking up teapot_). There's nobbut tea to drink and I reckon what's in the pot is stewed, so I'll-- MAGGIE (_taking pot off him as he moves to fire-place with it_). You'll not do owt of sort. Father likes his liquids strong. WILLIE (_down_ R. _of table_). A piece of pork pie now, Mr. Hobson? HOBSON (_groaning_). Pork pie! MAGGIE (_sharply_). You'll be sociable now you're here, I hope. (_She pours tea at table, top end_.) HOBSON. It wasn't sociability that brought me, Maggie. MAGGIE. What was it, then? HOBSON. Maggie, I'm in disgrace. A sore and sad misfortune's fallen on me.