GIBSON:  Yes, I knew what they got.

NORA [triumphantly]:  We cut those commissions from thirty-seven dollars—­to twelve!  And that’s just one more item among our economies.  Now do you wonder at the success we’re making?

GIBSON:  And your profits have been—­satisfactory?

NORA:  The very first month our profits were four thousand dollars more than the last month you were there!

GIBSON:  That’s the month you say you cut out four thousand seven hundred dollars’ worth of advertising.

NORA:  And the next month we cut down the commissions, and the profits were five thousand more!

GIBSON:  But those were returns under the old commissions.

NORA:  But last month, with new economies, we showed a larger profit than you had!

GIBSON:  And this month?

NORA:  We shan’t know that until the report’s read at the meeting to-morrow.  I think it will be the largest profit of all.

CARTER:  That bookkeeper’s workin’ on it to-day.  Talked like he was going to cut us down two or three thousand, mebbe. [Laughing.] That’s the way he always talks.

NORA:  He isn’t a good influence.

CARTER:  No—­too gloomy, too gloomy to suit me!

GIBSON:  What about the two other bookkeepers?

CARTER:  The committee voted them into the packing department; and they ain’t much good even there.  It’s a crime!

NORA:  They weren’t needed.  Our bookkeeping is so simplified since you left!

GIBSON:  It all seems to be simplified, Miss Gorodna.

NORA:  Yes; and whatever problems come up, they’re all settled at our meetings.

     [A sound of squabbling is heard upon the street, growing
     louder as the people engaging in it approach along the
     sidewalk.]

CARTER:  There’s one we got to bring up and do something about at the meetin’ to-morrow.

GIBSON:  What is it? [CARTER goes up to the gate.]

NORA:  It’s that Mrs. Simpson; she’s a great nuisance.

CARTER:  Yes, it’s her and Simpson and Frankel.  The Simpsons moved into a flat right up in this neighbourhood.  Quite some of the comrades live up round here now.

[FRANKEL and MRS. SIMPSON are heard disputing as they approach:  “Well, what you goin’ to do about it!” “I’ll show you what we’re goin’ to do about it!” “You can’t do nothing!” “You wait till to-morrow and see.”  “I got my rights, ain’t I?” and so on.]

SIMPSON [heard remonstrating]:  Now, Mamie, Mamie!  Frankel, you oughtn’t to talk to Mamie that way.

     [GIBSON, interested and amused, goes part way up to the
     hedge. NORA is somewhat mortified as the disputants reach the
     gate. GIBSON speaks to them.]

GIBSON:  How do you do, Simpson!  How do you do, Mrs. Simpson!  How do you do, Frankel!  Won’t you come in and argue here?