MAGGIE.  And  so  shall  I.  I'll  talk  to  Ada.  I've
seen  her  and  I  know  the  breed.  Ada's  the  helpless  sort.
WILLIE.    She  needs  protecting.
MAGGIE.  That's  how  she  got  you,  was  it  ?  Yes,  I
can  see  her  clinging  round  your  neck  until  you  fancied
you  were  strong.  But  I'll  tell  you  this,  my  lad,  it's  a
desperate  poor  kind  of  a  woman  that'll  look  for  protection
to  the  likes  of  you.
WILLIE.    Ada  does.
MAGGIE.  And  that  gives  me  the  weight  of  her.  She's
born  to  meekness,  Ada  is.  You  wed  her,  and  you'll
be  an  eighteen  shilling  a  week  bootmaker  all  the
days  of  your  life.  You'll  be  a  slave,  and  a  contented
slave.
WILLIE.    I'm  not  ambitious  that  I  know  of.
[41]


Act  I  HOBSON'S    CHOICE

MAGGIE.  No.  But  you're  going  to  be.  I'll  see  to
that.  I've  got  my  work  cut  out,  but  there's  the  makings
of  a  man  about  you.
WILLIE.     I  wish  you'd  leave  me  alone.
MAGGIE.     So    does   the   fly   when   the   spider   catches
him.    You're  my  man,  Willie  Mossop.
WILLIE.  Aye,  so  you  say.  Ada  would  tell  another
story,  though.
[ADA  FiGGlNS  enters  from  street.  She  is  not  ridicu-
lous, but  a  weak,  poor-blooded,  poor-spirited  girl
of  twenty,  in  clogs  and  shawl,  with  WILLIE'S
dinner  in  a  basin  carried  in  a  blue  hand-
kerchief. She  crosses  to  him  and  gives  him  the
basin.]

ADA.     There's  your  dinner,  Will.
WILLIE.    Thank  you,  Ada.
[She  turns  to  go,  and  finds  MAGGIE  in  her  way.]
MAGGIE.     I  want  a  word  with  you.     You're  treading
on  my  foot,  young  woman.
ADA.  Me,  Miss  Hobson  ?  [She  looks  stupidly  at  MAGGIE'S
feet.]

MAGGIE.     What's  this  with  you  and  him  ?
ADA   [gushing].     Oh,   Miss   'Obson,   it  is  good  of  you
to  take  notice  like  that.
