[Following SALVATORE come SIMPSON and his wife and RILEY. They all speak rather casually but not uncordially to GIBSON. MIFFLIN is with them, his hand on SIMPSON'S shoulder. The outbreak outside subsides in favour of a speech of extreme violence in a foreign language. Italian, Yiddish, or whatever it is, it seems most passionate, and by a good orator. It continues to be heard as the members of the committee take their seats at the big table. MIFFLIN beams and nods at GIBSON; and takes his seat with the committee.]
SHOMBERG [hotly, to MRS. SIMPSON]: Here, you ain't a member of this committee! Git her chair away from her there, Salvatore! She's got no right here!
MRS. SIMPSON: Oh, I haven't?
SHOMBERG: Already twice this morning I got hell from my own wife the way this woman treats her tryin' to chase her out the factory. You think you're on this committee?
MRS. SIMPSON [taking a chair triumphantly]: My husband is. I was here last time, and I'm goin' to keep on.
CARTER [referring to the speech in the factory]: My goodness! We can't do no work.
RILEY: Frankel, that's your business to shut 'em up.
FRANKEL: Talkin' ain't doin' no harm. Let 'em talk.
RILEY: Yes, I will! [Goes to the door, and roars]: Cut that out! I mean business! [Shuts the door and returns angrily to his seat.]
CARTER [rapping on the table with a ruler]: The meeting will now come to order! Minutes of the last meeting will now be read by the secretary.