(_Groups slowly form and seat themselves about stage as follows: Chalmers and Dolores Ortega; Rutland, Dowsett, Mrs. Starkweather; Connie, Mr. Dowsett, and Hubbard._) (_Chalmers carries tea to Dolores Ortega._) (_Sakari has been lingering by table, waiting for tea and pattering with Margaret, Chalmers, etc._) {Margaret} (_Handing cup to Sakari._) I am very timid in offering you this, for I am sure you must be appalled by our barbarous methods of making tea. {Sakari} (_Bowing._) It is true, your American tea, and the tea of the English, are quite radically different from the tea in my country. But one learns, you know. I served my apprenticeship to American tea long years ago, when I was at Yale. It was perplexing, I assure you--at first, only at first I really believe that I am beginning to have a--how shall I call it?--a tolerance for tea in your fashion. {Margaret} You are very kind in overlooking our shortcomings. {Sakari} (_Bowing._) On the contrary, I am unaware, always unaware, of any shortcomings of this marvelous country of yours. {Margaret} (_Laughing._) You are incorrigibly gracious, Mr. Sakari. (_Knox appears at threshold of rear entrance and pauses irresolutely for a moment_) {Sakari} (_Noticing Knox, and looking about him to select which group he will join._) If I may be allowed, I shall now retire and consume this--tea. (_Joins group composed of Connie, Mrs. Dowsett, and Hubbard._) (_Knox comes forward to Margaret, betraying a certain awkwardness due to lack of experience in such social functions. He greets Margaret and those in the group nearest her._) {Knox} (_To Margaret._) I don't know why I come here. I do not belong. All the ways are strange. {Margaret} (_Lightly, at the same time preparing his tea._) The same Ali Baba--once again in the den of the forty thieves. But your watch and pocket-book are safe here, really they are. (_Knox makes a gesture of dissent at her facetiousness._) Now don't be serious. You should relax sometimes. You live too tensely. (_Looking at Starkweather._) There's the arch-anarch over there, the dragon you are trying to slay. (_Knox looks at Starkweather and is plainly perplexed._) The man who handles all the life insurance funds, who controls more strings of banks and trust companies than all the Rothschilds a hundred times over--the merger of iron and steel and coal and shipping and all the other things--the man who blocks your child labor bill and all the rest of the remedial legislation you advocate. In short, my father. {Knox} (_Looking intently at Starkweather._) I should have recognized him from his photographs. But why do you say such things? {Margaret} Because they are true. (_He remains silent._) Now, aren't they? (_She laughs._) Oh, you don't need to answer. You know the truth, the whole bitter truth. This _is_ a den of thieves. There is Mr. Hubbard over there, for instance, the trusty journalist lieutenant of the corporations. {Knox}