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[_Already in motion she gives him a look of terror and intense negation._]
NORA: Oh! [_She runs from the gateway._]
ACT III
_The scene is the same as the first, the factory office--with a difference. It is now littered and disorderly. Files have been taken from the cases and left heaped upon the large table and upon chairs. Piles of mail are on the desk and upon the table.
The safe is open, showing papers in disorder and hanging from the compartments. Hanging upon the walls, variously, are suits of old overalls and men's coats and, hats. The chairs stand irregularly about the large table; a couple of old soft hats are on the water filter. The former posters have been replaced by two new ones. One shows a brawny workman with whiskers, paper cap, and large sledge hammer leaning upon an upright piano. Rubrics: "The Freedom and Fraternity Cooperative Upright." "The Piano You Ought to Support." The other poster shows a workman with a banner upon which is printed: "No Capital! The Freedom and Fraternity Cooperative Upright The Only Piano Produced by Toilers Not Ground by Capital. Buy One to Help the Cause!"_
NORA _is busily engaged at_ GIBSON'S _desk. Her hat and jacket hang on the wall._
CARTER _enters, smoking a pipe; he wears overalls and jumper.
He carries a heavy roll of typewritten sheets. Tosses this upon the table, glances at_ NORA, _who does not notice him, divests himself of overalls and jumper, and puts on the black frock coat which he wore in Act II. He looks at his watch and at the clock on the wall._
CARTER [_straightening out his coat_]: I thought it might look better to get on my Sunday clothes for the meeting, as you might say, Miss Gorodna. Being as I'm chairman it might look more dignified; kind o'
help give a kind of authority, maybe.
NORA [_absently, not looking up_]: Yes.
CARTER [_looking at his watch and at the clock again_]: It ought to be wound up for meetings. [_He steps upon a chair; moves the hands of clock._] There, doggone it, the key's lost! I believe Mrs. Simpson took that key for their own clock. [_He goes to the table; sits, unrolls the typewritten sheets, puts on his spectacles, and studies the sheets in a kind of misery, roughing his hair badly and making sounds of moaning._]
Miss Gorodna, can you make this figure out here for me? Does that mean profits--or what?
NORA: Oh, no; that's only an amount carried over.
CARTER: They's so many little puzzlin' things in this bookkeeper's report. I don't believe he understands it himself. I don't see how he expects me to read that to the meeting. Some parts I can't make head or tail of. Others it looks like he's got the words jest changed round.
NORA: Oh, we'll work it all out at the meeting, Mr. Carter!
CARTER: My, we got a lot to work out at this meeting.
NORA: We'll do it, comrade!
CARTER [_cheering up_]: Sure! Sure we will! It's wonderful what a meeting does; I'm always forgettin' all we got to do is vote and then the trouble's over.
[_Instantly upon this a loud squabbling and women's voices are heard outside, in the factory._]
NORA [_troubled_]: I was afraid this would happen. Of course after Mrs.
Simpson came other wives were bound to.
CARTER [_uneasily moving toward the door to the street_]: Well, I guess I better--
[_The door into the factory is flung open by_ MRS. SIMPSON, _in a state of fury. Another woman's voice is heard for a moment, shouting: "Old Cat! Old She-Cat! Wants to be a Tom-Cat!"_]
MRS. SIMPSON: See here, Carter, if you still pretend to be chairman you come out here and keep order!
CARTER: Now, Mrs. Simpson, you better go on home!
MRS. SIMPSON [_raging_]: _Me!_ My place is right here, but I'm not going to stand this Commiskey woman's insults! She come down here this morning with her husband and started right in to _run_ this factory. My heavens!
Ain't she got five children at home? As long as you still pretend to be chairman I demand you come out and tell this woman to go about her business.
SHREWISH VOICE: It _is_ my business!
MRS. SIMPSON: I'll show you! I was here first; everything was going all right. Carter, are you going to come out here and do your duty like I said?
CARTER [_attempting sternness and failing_]: You shut that door! I got to get this report in order before the meeting. I'm not comin'.
MRS. SIMPSON: Then I won't be responsible for what happens! She ain't the only one. Mrs. s...o...b..rg is out here messin' things up, too. If you won't do your duty there'll be direct action took here! [_She goes out violently._]
CARTER: That's got to come up in meeting. It certainly has. These here wives! For example, my wife's an awful quiet woman, but you s'pose she's goin' to stand it when she hears about all these others? I'd like to keep her at home.
NORA: I just wonder--
CARTER: What was you wondering, Miss Gorodna?
NORA: Well, if that's something the meeting can settle?
CARTER [_doggedly_]: Well, it's got to vote on it.
NORA: We did vote on Mrs. Simpson last meeting.
CARTER: Well, we got to vote on her and all the rest of 'em this time.
NORA: It didn't seem to settle Mrs. Simpson, did it?
CARTER: Well, it hadn't got so bad then. Now it's got to be settled! We got to git everything fixed up now.
[_A frightful dispute is heard in numerous male voices; some speaking Italian, some Yiddish, and some broken English. This grows louder as_ FRANKEL _rushes in, throwing the door shut behind him and leaning against it, wiping his forehead._]
FRANKEL: Life ain't worth livin'! Life ain't worth livin'!
CARTER: Serves you right, Frankel!
[_At the filter_ FRANKEL _pours water from the gla.s.s upon a dirty handkerchief and pa.s.ses the handkerchief over his forehead._]
FRANKEL: I got to git some peace! I got to collect myself.
CARTER: That shows you ain't got no rights like you claimed. You can't control your labour element.
FRANKEL [_bitterly_]: I'll control 'em all right! I'll show 'em who's their master!
[_A man's head with s.h.a.ggy hair and ragged whiskers is thrust in at the factory door. This is_ POLENSKI.]
POLENSKI [_ferociously_]: Are you goin' to come out here like a man?
FRANKEL: You _bet_ I'm comin' out there, Polenski! I'll show you who's the man here! You Hunnyacks try to browbeat me!