[Mrs. Pencil and Inkwell play center, front of table.]
Inkwell. Nonsense, I control the strikers, they come to me for orders. I'll stop this strike as soon as old Ivory gives me my price.
Mrs. Pencil. What do the brick-layers want?
Inkwell. They want shorter hours, more pay, better light—better air——
[Inkwell stops and looks at Sud.]
Sud. Go on—go on—don't glare at me!
Inkwell. Pardon me, Mr. Sud—but you have me say the brick-layers want better air. It doesn't sound right. You see brick-layers work out of doors and the air there is—I beg your pardon—it's in no way of criticism, sir——
Sud. Come here. [He cuts the line, using wrong colored pencil first.] Leave out "light and air." That's a confusion from bad typing in the serial version. Go on, Mr. Inkwell.
Inkwell [sits right of table and Mrs. Pencil left]. See here, Kate, you keep out of this business—I'm not going to be spied on by any woman.
Mrs. Pencil [in whisper]. Who is spying on you?