{Chalmers}

What can I do? She has a will of her own--the same sort of a will that you have. Besides, I think she knows about my--about some of my--indiscretions.

{Starkweather}

(_Slyly._)

_Harmless_ indiscretions?

(_Chalmers is about to reply, but observes Mrs. Starkweather approaching._)

{Mrs. Starkweather}

(_Speaks in a peevish, complaining voice, and during her harrangue Starkweather immerses himself in notebook._) Oh, there you are, Anthony. Talking politics, I suppose. Well, as soon as I get a cup of tea we must go. Tommy is not looking as well as I could wish. Margaret loves him, but she does not take the right care of him. I don't know what the world is coming to when mothers do not know how to rear their offspring. There is Margaret, with her slum kindergartens, taking care of everybody else's children but her own. If she only performed her church duties as eagerly!

Mr. Rutland is displeased with her. I shall give her a talking to--only, you'd better do it, Anthony. Somehow, I have never counted much with Margaret. She is as set in doing what she pleases as you are. In my time children paid respect to their parents. This is what comes of speed. There is no time for anything. And now I must get my tea and run. Connie has to dress for that dinner.

(_Mrs. Starkweather crosses to table, greets others characteristically and is served with tea by Connie._)

(_Chalmers waits respectfully on Starkweather._)

{Starkweather}

(_Looking up from note-book._) That will do, Tom.

(_Chalmers is just starting across to join others, when voices are heard outside rear entrance, and Margaret enters with Dolores Ortega, wife of the Peruvian Minister, and Matsu Sakari, Secretary of j.a.panese Legation--both of whom she has met as they were entering the house._)

(_Chalmers changes his course, and meets the above advancing group. He knows Dolores Ortega, whom he greets, and is introduced to Sakari._)

(_Margaret pa.s.ses on among guests, greeting them, etc. Then she displaces Connie at tea-table and proceeds to dispense tea to the newcomers._)

(_Groups slowly form and seat themselves about stage as follows: Chalmers and Dolores Ortega; Rutland, Dowsett, Mrs. Starkweather; Connie, Mr. Dowsett, and Hubbard._)

(_Chalmers carries tea to Dolores Ortega._)

(_Sakari has been lingering by table, waiting for tea and pattering with Margaret, Chalmers, etc._)

{Margaret}

(_Handing cup to Sakari._) I am very timid in offering you this, for I am sure you must be appalled by our barbarous methods of making tea.

{Sakari}

(_Bowing._) It is true, your American tea, and the tea of the English, are quite radically different from the tea in my country. But one learns, you know. I served my apprenticeship to American tea long years ago, when I was at Yale. It was perplexing, I a.s.sure you--at first, only at first I really believe that I am beginning to have a--how shall I call it?--a tolerance for tea in your fashion.

{Margaret}

You are very kind in overlooking our shortcomings.

{Sakari}

(_Bowing._) On the contrary, I am unaware, always unaware, of any shortcomings of this marvelous country of yours.

{Margaret}

(_Laughing._) You are incorrigibly gracious, Mr. Sakari. (_Knox appears at threshold of rear entrance and pauses irresolutely for a moment_)

{Sakari}

(_Noticing Knox, and looking about him to select which group he will join._) If I may be allowed, I shall now retire and consume this--tea.

(_Joins group composed of Connie, Mrs. Dowsett, and Hubbard._)

(_Knox comes forward to Margaret, betraying a certain awkwardness due to lack of experience in such social functions. He greets Margaret and those in the group nearest her._)

{Knox}

(_To Margaret._) I don't know why I come here. I do not belong. All the ways are strange.

{Margaret}

(_Lightly, at the same time preparing his tea._) The same Ali Baba--once again in the den of the forty thieves. But your watch and pocket-book are safe here, really they are.

(_Knox makes a gesture of dissent at her facetiousness._) Now don't be serious. You should relax sometimes. You live too tensely.

(_Looking at Starkweather._) There's the arch-anarch over there, the dragon you are trying to slay.

(_Knox looks at Starkweather and is plainly perplexed._) The man who handles all the life insurance funds, who controls more strings of banks and trust companies than all the Rothschilds a hundred times over--the merger of iron and steel and coal and shipping and all the other things--the man who blocks your child labor bill and all the rest of the remedial legislation you advocate. In short, my father.

{Knox}

(_Looking intently at Starkweather._) I should have recognized him from his photographs. But why do you say such things?

{Margaret}

Because they are true.

(_He remains silent._) Now, aren't they? (_She laughs._) Oh, you don't need to answer. You know the truth, the whole bitter truth.

This _is_ a den of thieves. There is Mr. Hubbard over there, for instance, the trusty journalist lieutenant of the corporations.

{Knox}

(_With an expression of disgust._) I know him. It was he that wrote the Standard Oil side of the story, after having abused Standard Oil for years in the pseudo-muck-raking magazines. He made them come up to his price, that was all. He's the star writer on _Cartwright's_, now, since that magazine changed its policy and became subsidizedly reactionary. I know him--a thoroughly dishonest man. Truly am I Ali Baba, and truly I wonder why I am here.

{Margaret}

You are here, sir, because I like you to come.

{Knox}