in the box, now has several neckties in her hand.] These aren't bad.
Nervous Gentleman—[Extends his fist.] It's socks I want, you know, not gloves.
Oscar—Ha, ha, ha! That's good! [Measures.] These are exactly right.
Nervous Gentleman—Sure they won't be too small?
Oscar—Perhaps just a half size larger. [Turns to the shelves again.]
Philip—The color won't run if they are washed in lukewarm water.
Thorough Young Lady—Are you quite sure? [The Nervous Gentleman takes the socks from Oscar and inspects them.]
Dissatisfied Lady—These aren't exactly what I wanted either, but I'll take them. How much does it all come to?
Juhasz—[Still watching Oscar. His voice trembles.] Seven kronen. . . . And these are five-fifty . . . these long ones . . . nine kronen eleven.
Thorough Young Lady—What did you say these were?
Dissatisfied Lady—I'm sure my husband won't like them.
Thorough Young Lady—[Rises.] Yes, perhaps I had better look at them too.
