KEN. So you all think I ought to apologize to Mr. Prescott. That's great. [_Into telephone._] Circle 7-6799 ... That's great ... [_Into telephone._] Mr. Kenneth Holden would like to speak with his employer, Mr. Stanley Prescott. [_Plainly._] The name is Holden. That's right.--What do I want? I want to apologize. Tell him I want to apologize. [_Pause._] Hello, Mr. Prescott? This is Kenneth Holden. I called up to apologize. [_His voice is still high._] I called you up earlier in the evening, Mr. Prescott, and criticized our working arrangement. Well, sir, I have become convinced that the work is more important than the arrangement, so with your kind permission ... [_Listens, as to an interruption. His confident manner slowly disappears. He listens with growing humiliation._] I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to use that tone. Yes--I mean it.--Yes, sir.... [_Almost in a whisper._] Thank you. [_Slowly, with an air of absolute defeat, he hangs up the receiver._] BISHOP. My son, that was a brave thing. It's wisest for you to keep the arrangement for the present, until ... it won't be long ... [_Clears his throat; looks at his watch._] My train. I've just time to catch it. [_To_ KEN.] You'll feel better about it in the morning, son. TIPPY. I'll call you a cab, sir. KEN. Good-bye, dad. [BISHOP _and_ TIPPY _go._] MARTIN. [_To no one at all._] Damn it all! LAURA. If you'd kept still he wouldn't have done it. KEN. [_Roughly._] Are you ashamed? Trying to apologize for my apologizing? LAURA. No, Ken, no. KEN. You're right to be ashamed of me.... MARTIN. Damn if anybody makes sense around here! KEN. Didn't you hear my father? He said I'd feel better about it in the morning. [_Sinks into apathy._] In the morning! TIPPY. [_Returning._] Well ... MARTIN. It's been a fine day! TIPPY. Yes--great! MARTIN. That was a good idea you had, reunion of the Class of '29. TIPPY. I meant well. LAURA. Of course you did! TIPPY. We'll have one yet, I tell you. LAURA. And soon. TIPPY. And we'll all have jobs. LAURA. Real jobs--important jobs! [_They try to make_ KEN _pay attention, but he doesn't._] TIPPY. Mr. Prescott will discover that Ken is really a genius and... MARTIN. And he'll fabricate the houses; millions of houses, all according to Ken's plans--millions and millions and millions of 'em--and all for individualists. TIPPY. Hi, Laura, you'll have advance models! LAURA. Like a Paris frock. TIPPY. You'll be the envy of all women. LAURA. I know it--because Ken will be so famous; and I'll be proud. [_There is a rapping at the door_, TIPPY _opens and_ POLICEMAN _enters, bringing_ KATE, _who is in state of collapse_, KEN _continues to sit staring bitterly into space. Repeats out loud: Feel better about it in the morning_, LAURA _rushes to_ KATE.] Kate! What happened? POLICEMAN. Friend of yours? TIPPY. Yes, that's right. [KATE _stares wildly, shivers_, LAURA _attends her_. POLICEMAN _draws_ TIPPY _and_ MARTIN _aside._]