GIBSON:  Oh, the factory could run if I quit, could it?

NORA:  That’s the capitalist!  They think it’s capital that runs the factories!

GIBSON:  And I’m the capital, am I?

NORA:  What in the world else? [Touches the piano.] You think you produce this wealth because you’ve got your money in it?  You pass out a pittance to those who do produce it, and when they ask for more than a pittance you take their tools away from them!  If they rebel you set the police on them.  That’s capital—­and that’s you, Mr. Gibson!

GIBSON:  Nora, you told me not to speak to you as a woman.

NORA:  I mean it!

GIBSON:  I’m going to disregard it.  Couldn’t you get your theories out of your mind for a while and make a little room there for me?

NORA:  My theories!  I haven’t any theories!  I’m talking about the truth, and the truth is my whole life.  I can’t find room for anything but the truth.

GIBSON:  Couldn’t you?

NORA:  Ah, that’s a man’s egoism!  With the whole world seething so that its wrongs should fill every mind—­yes, and every heart—­until they’re righted, you ask me—­

GIBSON:  I think you needn’t make it any clearer, Nora; I understand.

NORA [turning away, agitated]:  I am glad you do.

     [The factory door opens to the impetuous arrival of a
     workingman of extraordinary size and vehemence, RILEY, a
     truck driver.]

RILEY [as he opens the door]:  See here, Mr. Gibson, fer the love o’ heaven, don’t the truck drivers fer this factory git no consideration?

GIBSON:  I don’t know!  What do they want?

RILEY:  Look here, Mr. Gibson, man to man, every department in this factory is makin’ demands and goin’ to walk out if they don’t git ’em.  Ain’t we got no chance fer no demands?

GIBSON:  I said:  What do you want?

RILEY:  Why, we got grievances been hangin’ over I don’t know how long!

GIBSON:  What are they?

RILEY:  Why, all them other departments is going to git raises.  You don’t think fer a minute the truck drivers ain’t going to—­

GIBSON:  How much raise do you want?

RILEY:  Sir?

GIBSON:  How much raise do you want?

RILEY:  I can’t jest say right this minute.  We jest heard what was goin’ on in the other departments, and we ain’t had no meetin’ to settle just what raise we are goin’ to git.  Now, Mr. Gibson, if I was runnin’ this factory—­

GIBSON:  Well, what would you do?

RILEY:  The first thing I’d do, I’d see that the truck drivers didn’t have no more discontent than nobody else.  What becomes of your freight if you can’t run no trucks?  You got to look out, Mr. Gibson!  It’s us got the upper hand.

GIBSON:  Go call your meeting and find out what raise you’re going to strike for.

RILEY:  Yes, sir; I’ll do it. [He goes out quickly.]