TUBBY. Willie's a good lad, though I say it that trained him. He hit us hard, did Willie, but we'd have got round that in time. With care, you understand, and tact. Tact. That's what the gaffer lacks. Miss Maggie, now ... well, she's a marvel, aye, a fair knock-out. Not slavish, mind you. Stood up to the customers all the time, but she'd a way with her that sold the goods and made them come again for more. Look at us now. Men assistants in the shop. JIM. Cost more than women. TUBBY. Cost? They'd be dear at any price. Look here, Mr. Heeler, take yourself. When you go to buy a pair of boots do you like to be tried on by a man or a nice soft young woman? JIM. Well-- TUBBY. There you are. Stands to reason. It's human nature. JIM. But there are two sides to that, Tubby. Look at the other. TUBBY. Ladies? JIM. Yes. TUBBY. Ladies that are ladies wants trying on by their own sex, and them that aren't buys clogs. It's the good-class trade that pays, and Hobson's have lost it. (_Enter_ HOBSON _up_ R., _unshaven, without collar. He comes down stage between them_.) JIM (_with cheerful sympathy_). Well, Henry! HOBSON (_with acute melancholy and self-pity_). Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! TUBBY. Will you sit on the arm-chair by the fire or at the table? HOBSON. The table? Breakfast? Bacon? Bacon, and I'm like this. (JIM _assists him to arm-chair_.) JIM. When a man's like this he wants a woman about the house, Henry. HOBSON (_sitting_). I'll want then. TUBBY. Shall I go for Miss Maggie, sir?--Mrs. Mossop, I mean. JIM. I think your daughters should be here. HOBSON. They should. Only they're not. They're married, and I'm deserted by them all and I'll die deserted, then perhaps they'll be sorry for the way they've treated me. Tubby, have you got no work to do in the shop? TUBBY. I might find some if I looked hard. HOBSON. Then go and look. And take that bacon with you. I don't like the smell. TUBBY (_getting bacon_). Are you sure you wouldn't like Miss Maggie here? I'll go for her and--(_He holds the bacon very close to_ HOBSON'S _face_.) HOBSON. Oh, go for her. Go for the devil. What does it matter who you go for? I'm a dying man. (TUBBY _takes bacon and goes out_ L.) JIM. What's all this talk about dying, Henry? HOBSON. Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! I've sent for the doctor. We'll know soon how near the end is. JIM. Well, this is very sudden. (_Sits chair,_ R.) You've never been ill in your life. HOBSON. It's been saved up, and all come now at once. JIM. What are your symptoms, Henry? HOBSON. I'm all one symptom, head to foot. I'm frightened of myself, Jim. That's worst. You would call me a clean man, Jim? JIM. Clean? Of course I would. Clean in body and mind. HOBSON. I'm dirty now. I haven't washed this morning. Couldn't face the water. The only use I saw for water was to drown myself. The same with shaving. I've thrown my razor through the window. Had to or I'd have cut my throat. JIM. Oh, come, come.