HOBSON (with some slight apology). Well, Maggie.

MAGGIE (uninvitingly). Well, father.

HOBSON (without confidence). I'll come in.

MAGGIE (standing in his way). Well, I don't know. I'll have to ask the master about that.

HOBSON. Eh? The master?

MAGGIE. You and him didn't part on the best of terms, you know. (Over the railings.) Will, it's my father. Is he to come in?

WILLIE (loudly and boldly). Aye, let him come.

(HOBSON comes downstairs. MAGGIE closes door behind him and follows. HOBSON stares round at the cellar.)

HOBSON. You don't sound cordial about your invitation, young man.

WILLIE (rises and goes C.). Nay, but I am. (Shaking hands for a long time.) I'm right down glad to see you, Mr. Hobson. (MAGGIE comes down R.) It makes the wedding-day complete-like, you being her father and I—I