THE BARBER. Oh, I believe you. Don't let that trouble you. In fact, I know all about the meeting. There's going to be an auction, and unless you bid, it will be all up with you.
THE CUSTOMER. Then you'll let me go there?
THE BARBER. I'm afraid I won't, sir.
THE CUSTOMER. But—
THE BARBER. If I may use your own words, sir, I don't give a damn about your meeting.
THE CUSTOMER. ( Angrily ) Who the devil do you think
THE BARBER. ( Interrupting him by running the lather brush into his mouth ) Oh, shut up! ( There is a pause. )
THE CUSTOMER. I'll-I'll give you ten dollars to let me go.
THE BARBER. ( Acting as if he did not hear ) Beg pardon, sir?
THE CUSTOMER. ( Taking the scarf-pin from the edge of his vest. ) This scarf-pin—it's worth five hundred dollars—I'll give—