]
VOICES--Stop him!
He'll get shot!
He'll murder her!
Trip him up!
Hold him!
He's gone crazy!
Gott, he's strong!
Hold him down!
Look out for a kick!
Pin his arms!
[They have all piled on him and, after a fierce struggle, by sheer
weight of numbers have borne him to the floor just inside the
door.]
PADDY--[Who has remained detached.] Kape him down till he's cooled
off. [Scornfully.] Yerra, Yank, you're a great fool. Is it payin'
attention at all you are to the like of that skinny sow widout one
drop of rale blood in her?
YANK--[Frenziedly, from the bottom of the heap.] She done me doit!
She done me doit, didn't she? I'll git square wit her! I'll get
her some way! Git offen me, youse guys! Lemme up! I'll show her
who's a ape!
[Curtain]
SCENE V
SCENE--Three weeks later. A corner of Fifth Avenue in the Fifties
on a fine, Sunday morning. A general atmosphere of clean, well-
tidied, wide street; a flood of mellow, tempered sunshine; gentle,
genteel breezes. In the rear, the show windows of two shops, a
jewelry establishment on the corner, a furrier's next to it. Here
the adornments of extreme wealth are tantalizingly displayed. The
jeweler's window is gaudy with glittering diamonds, emeralds,
rubies, pearls, etc.
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