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 glass upon a
dirty handkerchief and passes 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 shaggy 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!

[_As he goes out, babbling fiercely, the howls of a Roman mob
are heard greeting him._]

CARTER: I don't feel no sympathy with him.

NORA: No; I should think not!

[_A more distant outbreak of the mob is heard, brief but
fierce, and just a moment before it ceases_ MIFFLIN _enters,
beaming. He is dressed as usual, with his umbrella and the same
old magazines and newspapers under his arm._]

MIFFLIN: Everything is lovely! How do you do, Miss Gorodna! Carter, old
fellow! It's a great morning, a great morning! Mr. Gibson drove me down
in his car. It's wonderful to feel the inspiration it's going to be for
an ex-capitalist to see this place and its harmony. My phrase for it is
"harmonized industry." It will mark an epoch for him.

[GIBSON _comes in._ MIFFLIN _greets him._]

MIFFLIN: Ah, Mr. Gibson! You'll see a difference! You'll see a
difference!

GIBSON: Yes, I do. Good morning, Miss Gorodna!

NORA [_just barely looking round_]: Good morning, Mr. Gibson.

MIFFLIN: I was just saying what an inspiration it's going to be for you
to see what we're doing down here. [_Pats_ CARTER'S _shoulder._] These
noble fellows are teaching us intellectuals a lesson. I keep going among
them; what they're doing here keeps flowing into me. You'll get it, Mr.
Gibson. You'll get it, too!

[_Beamingly he goes out into the factory._]

C