Ruth. I'm talking about your danger. You won't believe me. Guy. You won't believe me when I say there is no danger because I'm prepared to meet anything. Ruth. Including bullets? Do you wear a coat of mail? Guy. That's the worst of reading _The Corsair_. Put this cock-and-bull story of your mother's on the top of _The Corsair_ and you're ready to imagine anything. We're in England now. Ruth. So is Nottingham. Guy. This is Lancashire. We don't have Luddites here. Ruth. We have plug riots. I've read it in the newspaper. Guy. Women shouldn't read newspapers. It's all right, Ruth. Our fellows won't get out of hand. Ruth. You're driving them to desperation, Guy. I know the other side. I've seen. Guy, won't you have mercy on them? Guy. I'll have another factory out of them. Ruth. Have mercy on yourself and me. I'm so happy here. You've made me love you till I would cut off my hand to save you from a scratch upon your little finger. I shan't know peace again whenever you're away. Guy. Upon my word, Ruth, it's too bad of your mother. She ought to keep away, and not come here disturbing you with wild tales that haven't a spark of truth in them. Ruth. Are they wild tales? Guy. They're wild as wind. Ruth. But you said you'd taken precautions. If there's no truth, why take precautions? Guy. I said anything to comfort you. Are you satisfied now? Ruth. I'm silenced. Guy. That's good enough. (_Enter Ephraim and John Heppenstall, another factory owner, resembling Ephraim in type, dress, and age. He is, however, a more timid man, and his manner is irresolute._) Ephraim (_as they enter_). Come in here, Heppenstall. (_Seeing Ruth._) Ah! you've met my son's wife? John (_bowing politely, with a touch of courtliness_). Good evening, Mrs. Guy. (_To Guy._) Good evening. Guy. Good evening, Mr. Heppenstall. (_Taking Ruth's arm_). Ruth, my dear, Mr. Heppenstall has called on a matter of business. Ruth. Oh, mayn't I stay and listen? I'll be as quiet as a mouse. Ephraim (_genially_). Never knew anybody like this lass of Guy's, Heppenstall. She's interested in all manner of affairs. (_To Ruth._) You promise to be quiet? Ruth (_eagerly_). Oh, yes, yes. Guy. No. Ruth's more interested in Byron than anything else. (_Holding the book to her._) You can't read him here with us talking all the time. Ruth. You want me to go? Guy. Please. Ruth (_submissively_). Yes Guy. (_Takes book and exit._) Guy (_closing door behind her_). That's better. Women are sentimental, and we've to talk business. Won't you sit, Mr. Heppenstall? John (_who has been eyeing Guy with disapproval_). Thank you, Mr. Guy, I will. (_They sit round table._) Ephraim (_after clearing his throat_). Now, Heppenstall, I'll tell you what it's all about. John. I'm waiting to hear. Ephraim. You and I are rival manufacturers, but that's no reason why we shouldn't put our legs under the same table when we find the times difficult. I suppose there's no denying, they _are_ difficult?