KATE. [_Angrily._] What business was it of yours, checking up on him? MARTIN. None whatever, so long as it hurt only him and you. KATE. You boys need his rent. As long as you get it, why can't you treat him like a gentleman? His pride is all he's got left. [TED _re-enters. Wears different tie, good fall topcoat, not new. His hat and book in his hand._] TED. The man I think should have this book happens to be out of town. But I know someone else who might take it. I'll go and see him. [TIPPY _enters, bathrobe gone, pants on._] MARTIN. Just a minute, Ted. I've just been told I'm butting in on something that's none of my business. So, having been accused, I'm going to justify it. [TIPPY _tries to gesture him to shut up._] TED. Yes? MARTIN. You've been imposing on Tippy here, who is too damned charitable to speak in his own behalf. TIPPY. You're not speaking for me, Martin. MARTIN. All right, then, I'm speaking for myself. Here is Tippy, a sanitary engineer, cashing in on his education by washing dogs. He's making a little money. But he could make a lot more if he had a place of his own. TIPPY. I'll have it. I'll have it. Give me time. MARTIN. You'll not have it so long as you let people sponge on you. TIPPY. That's my business. MARTIN. You paid Ted's share of the rent last month, [KATE _looks surprised._] So this month, if Ted stays here he pays not eight but sixteen dollars. And you stick eight in the savings bank for that dog laundry. TIPPY. Now just wait a minute. I can explain last month's ... MARTIN. I'll not wait for you to think up another kind lie. God knows I don't enjoy hurting Ted. He was born and raised a capitalist and an aristocrat. Now he is a cast-off wreck of the system that made him. I hate the system, not the men it makes--and least of all the weak ones it throws into the scrap heap. [_Sees that all are hurt and offended._] Damn it, I'm sorry. My infernal sense of justice got the better of me. [_He goes out._] TED. [_With stolid anguish. To_ KATE.] I'm guilty. I took my rent money and bought this topcoat at a second-hand store. KATE. You said a friend gave it to you. TED. I haven't a friend left who'll even give me cast-off clothing. KATE. But why did you have to lie about it? TIPPY. That coat's an investment. You can't peddle books on Park Avenue without a topcoat.--Go along and cash in on your investment. Sell that book. KATE. I hope you can. TED. I probably can--by going through another half hour as pleasant as this one. [_He goes, shutting door sharply. There is a brief silence._] KEN. Well, I might as well tell you I haven't got my share of the rent, either. TIPPY. What's the matter? Check late? KEN. No.--I sent it back. TIPPY. You what? KEN. I sent it back. KATE. Did your father lose his job? KEN. Bishops don't lose their jobs. TIPPY. So what are you talking about? KEN. I've been living off dad for five years. TIPPY. Starving off him.