KEN. Yes.
BISHOP. Why hasn't he done something for you?
KEN. I suppose he can't.
BISHOP. Prescott's my friend. He ought to do something for you.
KEN. Oh, the hell with Prescott! [Contrite.] Don't misunderstand me. I wouldn't refuse any job he had to offer me. I'd black his boots if that was the job. But I've been to see him as much as I can. I can't sit on his doorstep and whine.
BISHOP. Certainly not. You must not do anything that would hurt your self-respect. [He has been holding the check, which he now lays down on the table.]
KEN. Don't leave that check, dad.
BISHOP. But son--
KEN. If you do, I'll tear it up.
[BISHOP picks up check, talks to LAURA.]