NORA: I mean it!

GIBSON: I'm going to disregard it. Couldn't you get your theories out of
your mind for a while and make a little room there for me?

NORA: My theories! I haven't any theories! I'm talking about the truth,
and the truth is my whole life. I can't find room for anything but the
truth.

GIBSON: Couldn't you?

NORA: Ah, that's a man's egoism! With the whole world seething so that
its wrongs should fill every mind--yes, and every heart--until they're
righted, you ask me--

GIBSON: I think you needn't make it any clearer, Nora; I understand.

NORA [_turning away, agitated_]: I am glad you do.

[_The factory door opens to the impetuous arrival of a
workingman of extraordinary size and vehemence_, RILEY, _a
truck driver._]

RILEY [_as he opens the door_]: See here, Mr. Gibson, fer the love o'
heaven, don't the truck drivers fer this factory git no consideration?

GIBSON: I don't know! What do they want?

RILEY: Look here, Mr. Gibson, man to man, every department in this