DAVE. [Hushing her.] Sh—
JOE. Well, I'll think it over and—
JIM. [Positively.] No!
JOE. No?
JIM. I can't fool with you, Joe; he gits the girl or we quit.
LIZBETH. An' the girl goes too.
JOE. What?
JIM. Yes, the girl goes too. [Pause and smile.] It's your say, Joe. [Foot on chair.] Well, Joe, it's up to you.
JOE. [Giving up.] Well, I can't help it.
JIM. [Passing the approval to DAVE and LIZBETH.] There's your girl. And you've got a stiddy job! [DAVE and LIZBETH half embrace.] What do you think of that? [To JOE, who is mechanically looking at gumbo.] Thirty dollars per car.