Peggy. For how much?
Will (in a voice of agony). Guess how much?
Peggy. Tell me!
Will. Two-fifty.
Peggy. Two-fifty!
Will. Two dollars and a half!
Peggy. Great God!
Will (furiously). How do they expect a poet to live on two dollars and a half for a poem?
Peggy (hysterically). They don't expect poets to live! They don't care anything about poets! Poets are cheap!
Will (catches her by the arm, stares at her). Peggy! Peggy! This play has got to succeed! It's got to succeed! People have got to like it!