I am sure on that account you leave
here with their respect. And to you I should think it might be some
relief--
GIBSON: Relief? I should think it might! And you can translate that into
your nineteen languages and dialects--including the Scandinavian! As for
you men--you wouldn't work for me--now see if you can work for
yourselves! Good-bye, Miss Gorodna!
[NORA, _who has been looking at him tensely, inclines her head
slightly. He opens the door that leads to the street and goes
out decisively. There are exclamations from everyone, loud but
awed. "Say, look here, look here, look here!"
"Give it to us!" "Equal shares! Did you hear what he said?"
"Gosh! Is this the end of the world?" "My wife won't believe
it!"_]
MIFFLIN: Gentlemen, this factory comes into the possession of every
workman in it on equal terms; each has a like share in the profits. At
last the workman owns his tools.
FRANKEL [_suddenly, as if light had just come_]: Gibson's crazy!
MIFFLIN: No, no! He saw the writing on the wall!
NORA [_as if entranced, her eyes to heaven_]: Isn't it
wonderful--wonderful!
MIFFLIN [_beaming_]: But we mustn't forget that it entails
responsibilities.
NORA: We mustn't forget that.
[_The telephone bell rings. They all turn their heads in
silence and look at it_, MIFFLIN _watching them, benevolently
chuckling. The bell rings again._]
CARTER [_blankly_]: The telephone is ringin'.
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