[TENCH, with the paper he has been writing, joins him, they speak together in low tones.] WILDER. We've been waiting for you, Harness. Hope we shall come to some---- FROST. [Entering from the hall.] Roberts! [He goes.] [ROBERTS comes hastily in, and stands staring at ANTHONY. His face is drawn and old.] ROBERTS. Mr. Anthony, I am afraid I am a little late, I would have been here in time but for something that--has happened. [To the men.] Has anything been said? THOMAS. No! But, man, what made ye come? ROBERTS. Ye told us this morning, gentlemen, to go away and reconsider our position. We have reconsidered it; we are here to bring you the men's answer. [To ANTHONY.] Go ye back to London. We have nothing for you. By no jot or tittle do we abate our demands, nor will we until the whole of those demands are yielded. [ANTHONY looks at him but does not speak. There is a movement amongst the men as though they were bewildered.] HARNESS. Roberts! ROBERTS. [Glancing fiercely at him, and back to ANTHONY.] Is that clear enough for ye? Is it short enough and to the point? Ye made a mistake to think that we would come to heel. Ye may break the body, but ye cannot break the spirit. Get back to London, the men have nothing for ye? [Pausing uneasily he takes a step towards the unmoving ANTHONY.] EDGAR. We're all sorry for you, Roberts, but---- ROBERTS. Keep your sorrow, young man. Let your father speak! HARNESS. [With the sheet of paper in his hand, speaking from behind the little table.] Roberts! ROBERT. [TO ANTHONY, with passionate intensity.] Why don't ye answer? HARNESS. Roberts! ROBERTS. [Turning sharply.] What is it? HARNESS. [Gravely.] You're talking without the book; things have travelled past you. [He makes a sign to TENCH, who beckons the Directors. They quickly sign his copy of the terms.] Look at this, man! [Holding up his sheet of paper.] "Demands conceded, with the exception of those relating to the engineers and furnace-men. Double wages for Saturday's overtime. Night-shifts as they are." These terms have been agreed. The men go back to work again to-morrow. The strike is at an end. ROBERTS. [Reading the paper, and turning on the men. They shrink back from him, all but ROUS, who stands his ground. With deadly stillness.] Ye have gone back on me? I stood by ye to the death; ye waited for that to throw me over! [The men answer, all speaking together.] ROUS. It's a lie! THOMAS. Ye were past endurance, man. GREEN. If ye'd listen to me! BULGIN. (Under his breath.) Hold your jaw! ROBERTS. Ye waited for that! HARNESS. [Taking the Director's copy of the terms, and handing his own to TENCH.] That's enough, men. You had better go. [The men shuffle slowly, awkwardly away.]