Jabez. Oh, I shan't hurt him. A good talking to _'_ull do him no harm.
Butler (_At door l._). Dr. Clavering has called, sir. Wishes to speak to you.
Jabez (_Surprised_) Clavering? Well, show him up.
Jabez. What's the matter with Clavering? He doesn't often condescend to leave his precious research work in the evenings. (_Rosie shrugs her shoulders contemptuously. Enter Butler._)
(_Enter Clavering. Exit Butler. Clavering is a young doctor with keen clever face, clean-shaven, with a general air of self-reliance. He is a practical man of a fairs whose business happens to be doctoring._)
Jabez (_Rising_). Good evening, Dr. Clavering. (_They shake hands, and Jabez, turning his chair sits sideways to the table._)
Clav. Good evening, Miss Thompson. (_Rosie murmurs and bows coldly._)
Jabez. Well, what can I do for you, doctor? Sit down.
Clav. (_Sits on sofa l._) The fact is--it's rather a liberty--I hope you won't mind.
Clav. I've come to see you about one of your men--a fellow named Alcott.
Jabez (_rising_). But it does matter; if I talk about a man I like to know who I'm talking about. I shan't be a moment. My record book's handy.
Jabez. Yes; I've every man's record in that book. I don't risk leaving a thing like that at the works, safe or no safe. (_Crossing and reaching door l._) I'll go and look the name up. Lomax is here too with the letters for signing, but that won't detain me long. (_Exit taking hunch of keys from his trousers' pocket._)
Clav. Miss Thompson, I'm glad your father's gone. It gives me an opportunity----
Rosie (_Eagerly_). Yes? Any illness amongst the men, doctor?
Clav. Only this Alcott. I'll discuss that with Mr. Thompson. Don't let's waste time now. (_Rises and moves to back of table._) I hoped so much to see you alone. I never get a chance.
Clav. I can't see your face through the telephone, and it's always about others. What a great heart you have, Miss Thompson! (_Sits above table._)
Clav. Yes; for me it's the telephone--always the telephone. So and so's ill--a name passes, an address, and we ring off. I never get the chance of seeing you alone.
Rosie. Doctors are such busy people, aren't they?
Clav. Not too busy to be human, to desire to see in the flesh the woman one's always communicating with through a cold-blooded telephone. We're allies, you know, Miss Thompson, fellow-conspirators, aren't we? That makes a bond between us.