_Bill._ Sure!

_Jack._ But--what shall I do now?

_Bill._ Give me four ninety-five change and then we'll be square.

_Jack (making a stab at him)._ Get out, you rascal!

_Bill (flees, laughing)._ Gee, I'll come back to this joint!
_(Exit.)_

_Belle._ It's most time we were closing. My sister's late.

_Jack._ What does your sister do?

_Belle._ She does sewing.

_Jack._ Does she earn much?

_Belle._ Just enough to keep us alive.

_Dolly (enters from street. She is older than Belle, attractive
looking, but sharp and aggressive in manner, thin and careworn,
poorly dressed, and with snow on her clothing.)_ Why, what's this?

_Jack._ Belle's sick.

_Dolly (springs to her)._ Belle! What's the matter?