JOHN. So you think we're making a wrong move and there isn't a chance
of success!
WILL. No, I don't make any such gloomy prophecy. If you make Laura a
good husband, and she makes you a good wife, and together you win
out, I'll be mighty glad. As far as I am concerned I shall absolutely
forget every thought of Laura's friendship for me.
LAURA. I thought you'd be just that way.
[_Crosses to_ WILL, _shakes hands_.
WILL. [_Rising_.] And now I must be off. [_Takes her by both hands
and shakes them_.] Good-bye, girlie! Madison, good luck. [_Crosses to_
JOHN. _Shakes_ JOHN'S _hands; looks into his eyes_.] I think you've
got the stuff in you to succeed if your foot don't slip.
JOHN. What do you mean by my foot slipping, Mr. Brockton?
WILL. You want me to tell you?
JOHN. I sure do.
WILL. [_Turns to Laura_.] Laura, run into the house and see if
Mrs. Williams has won another quarter. [LAURA _sinks fearfully into
chair_.] Madison and I are going to smoke a cigar and have a friendly
chat, and when we get through I think we'll both be better off.
LAURA. You are sure that everything will be all right?
WILL. Sure.
LAURA _looks at_ JOHN _for assurance, and exits; he nods
reassuringly_.
WILL. Have a cigar?
[SERVANT _places lamp on table inside house_.
JOHN. No, I'll smoke my own.
[_Crosses down right; sits in armchair_.
WILL. What is your business? [_Crosses up to seat centre; sits_.
JOHN.
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