NORA: It isn't right; you pay labour only what you have to pay.
GIBSON: The Coles-Hibbard people offer to pay me what they'd have to,
and they're pretty hard-headed men. The whole world pays only what it
has to.
NORA: It isn't right! It isn't right!
GIBSON: Last winter I saw you in a three-dollar seat listening to
Caruso. Have you ever given that much to the organ grinder who comes
under these windows?
NORA: Will it always be so?
GIBSON: I don't know. But it's so now.
NORA: But will the plan _always_ fail?
GIBSON: I think it will until human beings are as near alike as the ants
and bees are. Your system is in full effect with them, but we--we
strive; even in this fellowship here of yours the striving began to
show.
NORA [_looking up at him appealingly_]: But are these inequalities
_right_?
GIBSON [_gently, rather sadly_]: I don't know. I only know what is.
NORA: Well--I'm whipped.
[_Smiles ruefully, away from him; then she turns again to
him._]
Are you going to accept that offer?
GIBSON: What do you say?
[_Her head droops again. Angry voices are heard, growing louder
as they approach. The door is thrown open, and the members of
the committee, noisily talking, appear in the doorway._]
FRANKEL: It was a bum deal all through!
SHOMBERG: Shovin' his run-down factory off onto us!
RILEY [_fiercely_]: You never give us no deed to this plant, Mr. Gibson!
SIMPSON: They ain't a court in the land'll hold us to it!
CARTER: No, sir; and we've voted this is your factory, Mr.
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