EST. Oh, it's a business affair... they have forced their way into some deal of father's, and so we have to cultivate them.
GER. Plimpton, the coal baron! And Rutherford, the steel king! I wonder how many hundred millions of dollars we shall have to have before we can choose our guests for something more interesting than their Wall Street connections!
EST. I think I hear them. [Listens.] Yes... the voice. [Mocking PLIMPTON'S manner and tone.] Good evening, Miss Isman. I guess I'll skip it!
[Exit right.]
GER. And I, too!
[Exit left.]
RUTHERFORD. [A stout and rather coarse-looking man, enters, right, with PLIMPTON.] It's certainly an outrageous state of affairs, Plimpton!
PLIMPTON. [A thin, clerical-looking person, with square-cut beard.] Disgraceful! Disgraceful!
RUTH. The public seems to be quite hysterical!
PLIMP. We have got to a state where simply to be entrusted with great financial responsibility is enough to constitute a man a criminal; to warrant a newspaper in prying into the intimate details of his life, and in presenting him in hideous caricatures.