JOHN.  I’ll take a chance, but before you start I want to tell you that the class of people that you belong to I have no use for—­they don’t speak my language.  You are what they call a manipulator of stocks; that means that you’re living on the weaknesses of other people, and it almost means that you get your daily bread, yes, and your cake and your wine, too, from the production of others.  You’re a “gambler under cover.”  Show me a man who’s dealing bank, and he’s free and aboveboard.  You can figure the percentage against you, and then, if you buck the tiger and get stung, you do it with your eyes open.  With your financiers the game is crooked twelve months of the year, and, from a business point of view, I think you are a crook.  Now I guess we understand each other.  If you’ve got anything to say, why, spill it.

WILL rises, comes down toward JOHN, showing anger in his tones.

WILL.  We are not talking business now, but women.  How much money do you earn?

[Crosses to chair left of table; gets it.

JOHN.  Understand I don’t think it is any of your damn business, but I’m going through with you on this proposition, just to see how the land lays.  But take my tip, you be mighty careful how you speak about the girl if you’re not looking for trouble.

WILL.  All right, but how much did you say you made?

[Crosses over to centre of stage, carrying chair; sits.

JOHN.  Thirty dollars a week.

WILL.  Do you know how much Laura could make if she just took a job on her own merits?

JOHN.  As I don’t intend to share in her salary, I never took the trouble to inquire.

WILL.  She’d get about forty dollars.

JOHN.  That laps me ten.

WILL.  How are you going to support her?  Her cabs cost more than your salary, and she pays her week’s salary for an every-day walking-hat.  She’s always had a maid; her simplest gown flirts with a hundred-dollar note; her manicurist and her hair-dresser will eat up as much as you pay for your board.  She never walks when it’s stormy, and every afternoon there’s her ride in the park.  She dines at the best places in New York, and one meal costs her more than you make in a day.  Do you imagine for a moment that she’s going to sacrifice these luxuries for any great length of time?

JOHN.  I intend to give them to her.

WILL.  On thirty dollars a week?

JOHN.  I propose to go out and make a lot of money.

WILL.  How?

JOHN.  I haven’t decided yet, but you can bet your sweet life that if I ever try and make up my mind that it’s got to be, it’s got to be.

WILL.  Never have made it, have you?

JOHN.  I have never tried.

WILL.  Then how do you know you can?

JOHN.  Well, I’m honest and energetic.  If you can get great wealth the way you go along, I don’t see why I can’t earn a little.