age. You're a proper old maid, Maggie, if ever there was one.
MAGGIE. I'm thirty.
HOBSON (facing her). Aye, thirty and shelved. Well, all the women can't get husbands. But you others, now. I've told you. I'll have less uppishness from you or else I'll shove you off my hands on to some other men. You can just choose which way you like. (He picks up hat and makes for door.)
MAGGIE. One o'clock dinner, father.
HOBSON. See here, Maggie,--(back again down to in front of desk)--I set the hours at this house. It's one o'clock dinner because I say it is, and not because you do.
MAGGIE. Yes, father.
HOBSON. So long as that's clear I'll go. (He is by door.) Oh no, I won't. Mrs. Hepworth's getting out of her carriage.
(He puts hat on counter again. MAGGIE rises and opens door. Enter MRS. HEPWORTH, an old lady with a curt manner and good clothes.)
Good morning, Mrs. Hepworth. What a lovely day.