_Dad._ What!

_Jessie._ Marry her!

_Dolly._ That's what he told her. Didn't you, Jack?

_Jack._ Why--I--

_Dolly._ It's all right, Jack--since's we've caught on in time.

_Jack._ No, no, don't misunderstand me. It was just that I didn't want to tell my family just yet.

_Dad (starting forward)._ Why, you infernal jacka.s.s!

_Jack._ Dad--

_Dad._ You have the impudence to come here and tell me that you promised to marry a waitress in a restaurant!

_Jack._ Yes, Dad---

_Dad (raging)._ Are you mad? When you've just proven that you can't earn enough to fill your own belly? You come here whining for forgiveness, and then tell me you'll marry a girl of the streets--

_Jessie._ Dad! Stop!

_Dolly._ Excuse me, Jack--we'll get out of this. _(Rises.)_

_Jessie._ No--wait! Please, Dad--

_Dad._ Let her go! There's no place for her here.

_Dolly._ Come, Belle, _(Lifts her.)_

_Jessie (Hysterically)._ Dad, how can you be so cruel?

_Dad._ Keep out of this, Jessie.

_Jack._ If they go, I go too, Dad.

_Dad._ Go, and good riddance to you.

_Jack._ If I go, I'll never return.

_Dad._ Has anybody asked you to?

_Bob._ Wait a minute, Dad.

_Dad._ Let me alone, Bob. I'll attend to this.

_Jessie (rushing to Jack)._ Jack! Jack! Wait!

_Dolly._ Come on, Belle! This is no place for us!

_Jack._ I'll take her myself. _(Exits left with Belle)._

_Jessie._ Jack! Dad doesn't know what he's saying!

_Dad._ Who says I don't know what I'm saying? Who says I'm not responsible for my own acts? Who says I have to be handled carefully? I'll have you all understand--

_Jessie (clutching Dad)._ Don't you see the girl's nearly dead?

_Bill._ I'll get out too _(To Dad.)_ Say Mister--_(Dad stares at him)._ You're worse'n my stepfather! _(Exit with Dolly)._

_Jessie (hysterically)._ Dad! Dad! I beg you--have mercy. _(Flings herself sobing upon him)._

_Bob._ Really, Dad, you're treating him pretty badly!

_Dad._ I haven't asked your opinion, sir!

_Bob._ Well, I guess I'll go with him!

_Dad._ As you please, sir! _(Bob exit. The Play-play begins to fade)._

_Will (in low voice)._ That's as far as I've done. _(A pause.)_ It's near the end. What do you think of it?

_Pegyy._ Why, Will, you know what I told you before--

_Will (in a voice of despair)._ That it's all wrong! That I don't know how to write a play. That I've got to do it all over!

_Peggy._ I never said that, Will. But I told you that you couldn't put an audience through all those harrowing adventures, and then pile an unhappy ending on top. You simply can't get away with such a proposition.

_Will._ But surely, I can't have this play end happily!

_Peggy._ Where's the law to prevent you?

_Will._ The law of truth prevents me.

_Peggy._ What do you mean? Couldn't Dad forgive Jack?

_Will._ No!

_Peggy._ Why not?

_Will._ Because Dad hasn't forgiven me.

_Peggy._ But Will, there are plenty of other Dads--and they aren't all so heartless. You'll simply have to choose another father for this play. You can't write for your own satisfaction--you've got to think about the box-office.

_Will (leaping up and flinging out his hands)._ Oh, my G.o.d! The box-office! Have I got to slaughter my artistic instincts to feed the greed of a box-office? For G.o.d's sake, Peggy, take this play and write it to suit the taste of Broadway! Or shall I tear up the darned stuff? _(Seizes Mss.)_

_Peggy (interfering)._ Will!