cks! [_Bewilderedly._] Is dat straight
goods--monkey fur? What de hell--?

LONG--[_Bitterly._] It's straight enuf. [_With grim humor._] They
wouldn't bloody well pay that for a 'airy ape's skin--no, nor for the
'ole livin' ape with all 'is 'ead, and body, and soul thrown in!

YANK--[_Clenching his fists, his face growing pale with rage as if the
skin in the window were a personal insult._] Trowin' it up in my face!
Christ! I'll fix her!

LONG--[_Excitedly._] Church is out. 'Ere they come, the bleedin' swine.
[_After a glance at Yank's lowering face--uneasily._] Easy goes,
Comrade. Keep yer bloomin' temper. Remember force defeats itself. It
ain't our weapon. We must impress our demands through peaceful
means--the votes of the on-marching proletarians of the bloody world!

YANK--[_With abysmal contempt._] Votes, hell! Votes is a joke, see.
Votes for women! Let dem do it!

LONG--[_Still more uneasily._] Calm, now. Treat 'em wiv the proper
contempt. Observe the bleedin' parasites but 'old yer 'orses.

YANK--[_Angrily._] Git away from me! Yuh're yellow, dat's what. Force,
dat's me! De punch, dat's me every time, see! [_The crowd from church
enter from the right, sauntering slowly and affectedly, their heads
held stiffly up, looking neither to right nor left, talking in
toneless, simpering voices. The women are rouged, calcimined, dyed,
overdressed to the nth degree. The men are in Prince Alberts, high
hats, spats, canes, etc. A procession of gaudy marionettes, yet with
something of the relentless horror of Frankensteins in their detached,
mechanical unawareness._]

VOICES--Dear Doctor Caiaphas! He is so sincere!
What was the sermon? I dozed off.
About the radicals, my dear--and the false
doctrines that are being preached.
We must organize a hundred per cent American bazaar.
And let everyone contribute one one-hundredth percent
of their income tax.
What an original idea!
We can devote the proceeds to rehabilitating the veil of the
temple.
But that has been done so many times.

YANK--[_Glaring from one to the other of them--with an insulting snort
of scorn._] Huh! Huh! [_Without seeming to see him, they make wide
detours to avoid the spot where he stands in the middle of the
sidewalk._]

LONG--[_Frightenedly._] Keep yer bloomin' mouth shut, I tells yer.

YANK--[_Viciously._] G'wan! Tell it to Sweeney! [_He swaggers away and
deliberately lurches into a top-hatt