[She blow him a kiss, and goes out at the window.] HILLCRIST. And tell cook I've got to go on slops. This foot's worse. FELLOWS. [Sympathetic] Indeed, sir. HILLCRIST. My third go this year, Fellows. FELLOWS. Very annoying, sir. HILLCRIST. Ye-es. Ever had it? FELLOWS. I fancy I have had a twinge, sir. HILLCRIST. [Brightening] Have you? Where? FELLOWS. In my cork wrist, sir. HILLCRIST. Your what? FELLOWS. The wrist I draw corks with. HILLCRIST. [With a cackle] You'd have had more than a twinge if you'd lived with my father. H'm! FELLOWS. Excuse me, sir--Vichy water corks, in my experience, are worse than any wine. HILLCRIST. [Ironically] Ah! The country's not what it was, is it, Fellows? FELLOWS. Getting very new, sir. HILLCRIST. [Feelingly] You're right. Has Dawker come? FELLOWS. Not yet, sir. The Jackmans would like to see you, sir. HILLCRIST. What about? FELLOWS. I don't know, sir. HILLCRIST. Well, show them in. FELLOWS. [Going] Yes, sir. [HILLCRIST turns his swivel chair round. The JACKMANS come in. He, a big fellow about fifty, in a labourer's dress, with eyes which have more in then than his tongue can express; she, a little woman with a worn face, a bright, quick glance, and a tongue to match.] HILLCRIST. Good morning, Mrs. Jackman! Morning, Jackman! Haven't seen you for a long time. What can I do? [He draws in foot, and breath, with a sharp hiss.] HILLCRIST. [In a down-hearted voice] We've had notice to quit, sir. HILLCRIST. [With emphasis] What! JACKMAN. Got to be out this week. MRS. J. Yes, sir, indeed. HILLCRIST. Well, but when I sold Longmeadow and the cottages, it was on the express understanding that there was to be no disturbance of tenancies: MRS. J. Yes, sir; but we've all got to go. Mrs. 'Arvey, and the Drews, an' us, and there isn't another cottage to be had anywhere in Deepwater. HILLCRIST. I know; I want one for my cowman. This won't do at all. Where do you get it from? JACKMAN. Mr. 'Ornblower, 'imself, air. Just an hour ago. He come round and said: "I'm sorry; I want the cottages, and you've got to clear." MRS. J. [Bitterly] He's no gentleman, sir; he put it so brisk. We been there thirty years, and now we don't know what to do. So I hope you'll excuse us coming round, sir. HILLCRIST. I should think so, indeed! H'm! [He rises and limps across to the fireplace on his stick. To himself] The cloven hoof. By George! this is a breach of faith. I'll write to him, Jackman. Confound it! I'd certainly never have sold if I'd known he was going to do this. MRS. J. No, sir, I'm sure, sir. They do say it's to do with the potteries. He wants the cottages for his workmen. HILLCRIST. [Sharply] That's all very well, but he shouldn't have led me to suppose that he would make no change.