Juhasz—[Touched, but refitting his impulse.] Will it always be like this?. . . Why can't they let me be? [Turns, comes down right, passes behind the counter. Philip enters through the archway.]
Oscar—[Follows Juhasz.] Well . . . what do you say?
Juhasz—[Through his clenched teeth.] I can't. . . . You mustn't ask it of me. I'll do anything but that. . . . My dear fellow, you must see I can't do that. . . .
Oscar—[Bends over the counter toward him.] Then, at least, will you give me six pair of black socks? [Raises his trousers leg.] Mine are in tatters.
Juhasz—Oh!
Oscar—You won't even do that for me?
Juhasz—[Impatiently.] Certainly I will. . . . [Takes a box from the shelves, throws it on the counter.]
Oscar—You are not going to offer me those HBs.
Juhasz—What kind do you want then?
Oscar—You might at least give me KMs.
Juhasz—I have no more KMs. They are all gone. [Puts out another box.] Here are some AWs. [Opens the box.] They are very good. [Shows him a pair.]
Oscar—Are you trying to tell me these are good? [Fingers them.] Cobweb?
