een very nice about it. He told me he would give
you the interview for your article. He's in the factory--trying to
settle some things he _can't_ settle. I'll let him know you're here.

[_She goes out by the door into the factory._ MIFFLIN, _smiling
with benevolent anticipation, places his umbrella and hat on a
chair, then takes his fountain pen and a pencil from his
pocket, smilingly decides to use the pencil, sharpens it
without going to a wastebasket over by the desk; then beamingly
looks about the room. He is about to strike a chord on the
piano, seems alarmed by the idea, moves away from it, dusts the
lapel of his coat, adjusts his collar, studies the posters,
shakes his head over them as if they were not to his taste,
goes to the desk, and after studying it smiles at the rose and
gives it a kittenish peck with his forefinger._ NORA _comes
back and_ MIFFLIN _turns to her with his benevolent smile._]

NORA [_going back to her work at the piano_]: He'll be right here.

[GIBSON _appears in the open doorway, speaking with crisp
determination to someone not seen._]

GIBSON: That's my last word on it; that's in accordance with the
agreement you signed two weeks ago.

A HARSH VOICE: We don't care nothin' about no agreement!

GIBSON: That's all!

[_He comes in. He is a man of thirty-something; well but not
clubbishly dressed; an intelligent, thoughtful face; a man of
affairs. Just now he is exercising some self-control over
irritations which have become habitual, but he is not
uncordial, merely quiet, during his greeting of_ MIFFLIN.]

NORA: This is Mr. Mifflin, Mr. Gibson.

GIBSON: How do you do, Mr. Mifflin.

MIFFLIN [_heartily, as they shake hands_]: I am very glad to meet you,
Mr. Gibson! I hope you don't mind my not writing to you myself for this
interview.

GIBSON: Not at all!

MIFFLIN [_taking a chair_]: I heard Miss Gorodna speak at a meeting two
nights ago--

GIBSON: Yes?

MIFFLIN: And learning that she was one of your employees I asked her to
speak to you about it for me.

GIBSON: I see.

MIFFLIN: Now, in the first place, Mr. Gibson--

[_There is a telephone on_ GIBSON'S _desk; its bell rings._]

GIBSON: Excuse me a moment!

[_At the telephone_]: Hello!... Yes--Gibson.... Oh, hello, McCombs!...
Yes. I want you to buy it.... I want you to buy all of that grade wire
you can lay your hands on