other in Juhasz's hand.] You keep this one. It's the duplicate.
Juhasz—The duplicate . . . yes. Where are you going?
Santha—To give this back to the cashier.
Juhasz—Oh, yes. Thank you, Santha.
Santha—Don't mention it, sir. [He exits. There is a pause. Juhasz stands at left. Paula is at extreme right. He looks at her, still balancing the envelope full of banknotes on his palm.]
Paula—I congratulate you, Mr. Juhasz. [He is silent.] Now you can have your shop back, and everything will be all right for you.
Juhasz—[Crosses to her.] Yes, Paula, now everything will be all right for me. And for you, too. For now I can give you the things you want . . . fine clothes and beautiful places and all the rest. . . . Take it, Paula.
Paula—Mr. Juhasz . . . your shop, your creditors
Juhasz—What do I want the shop for now? Let the creditors sell it out. There will be more than enough to pay them.
Paula—But that means your livelihood, your entire future!
Juhasz—I love you, Paula. It is your future I am thinking of. You don't want to work in a shop . . . or be a shopkeeper's wife . . . you want to
