The Editor. Ha, ha!—you turned me out of the house this morning!
Evje. Oh, forget all about that!
The Editor (looking at his watch). Half past! Now, without any more evasions—will you, or will you not?
Evje (with a struggle). No! I repeat, no! (The EDITOR moves away.) Yes, yes!—It nearly kills me to do it!
The Editor. "The Capitalist, secure in his position, who needs pay no regard to," etc., etc.—that is the "common form," isn't it, you man of first-class credentials? Ha, ha! Good-bye. I am going home to send the boy to the printers; he has waited long enough. (Moves away.)
Evje (following him). You are the cruellest, hardest, most reckless—
The Editor (who has been laughing, suddenly becomes serious). Hush! Do you see?
Evje (turning round). What? Where?
The Editor. Over there!
Evje. Those two?