The Early Ayn Rand

[There is the sound of a door opening upstairs. SERGE whirls around. INGALLS slams his right hand, palm down, over the check on the table, as HASTINGS comes down the stairs]

HASTINGS: [Notices INGALLS' hand at once, says lightly:] I'm not interrupting anything, am I?

[SERGE stands by the table, doing a very bad job of disguising his anxiety. INGALLS is perfectly calm]

INGALLS: No. No.

HASTINGS: Imagine finding the two of you in a friendly tete-a-tete.

INGALLS: Oh, we were discussing going into vaudeville together. In a mind-reading act. We're very good at reading each other's mind. Though I think I'm better at it than Serge.

HASTINGS: [Looks at INGALLS' right hand on the table, imitating his tone] You have an interesting hand, Steve. Ever had your palm read?

INGALLS: No. I don't believe in palmistry.

HASTINGS: [Takes out a cigarette] Give me a light, Steve. [INGALLS reaches into his pocket, takes out his lighter, snaps it on, and offers it to HASTINGS — all with his left hand] Didn't know you were left-handed.

INGALLS: I'm not. I'm just versatile.

HASTINGS: Come on, Steve, how long are you going to play the fool? Lift that hand.

INGALLS: Well, Serge enjoyed it. [Lifts his hand as SERGE leaps toward it, but HASTINGS pushes SERGE aside and seizes the check]

HASTINGS: [Reading the check] "Pay to the order of Steven Ingalls..." Well, well, well.

Had I come down a minute later, you'd have been half-a-millionaire, Steve.

INGALLS: Yes. Why did you have to hurry?

SERGE: [Screams at the top of his voice, whirling upon INGALLS] You swine! You did it on purpose!

HASTINGS: [In mock astonishment] No?

SERGE: [To INGALLS] You lied! You betrayed me! You never intended to sell yourself! You're unprincipled and dishonest!

INGALLS: You shouldn't have trusted me like that.

[HELEN and TONY enter hurriedly at the top of the stairs]

HELEN: [Anxiously] What's going on here?

HASTINGS: Nothing much. Just Serge throwing five-hundred-thousand-dollar checks around.

[HELEN gasps. TONY follows her down the stairs]

SERGE: [Screaming defiantly to INGALLS and HASTINGS] Well? What are you going to do about it? You can't prove anything!

[FLEMING hurries in Right and stops short at the door]

HASTINGS: [Reproachfully] Now, Serge. We can prove that you're defrauding the Refugees' Committee out of fifteen bucks a week, for instance. And we can prove that I'm right about people who have no motive.

TONY: [Almost regretfully] Gee, I hoped it wouldn't be Serge. I hate having to be grateful to Serge for the rest of my life.

[ADRIENNE comes in from the garden, followed a little later by DIXON]

SERGE: What motive? What can you prove? That I tried to buy an invention from a murderer who needed the money — nothing else. It's just a simple commercial invention. Isn't it, Mr. Ingalls?

INGALLS: Yes.

HASTINGS: Goddamn it, we've got to find that newspaper!

SERGE: Now you understand, Mr. Hastings? Prove that I wasn't in Stamford! Prove it! I don't care whether you find that paper or not! Your own dear friends will have to swear they saw it!

HASTINGS: They don't know what edition it was.

SERGE: That's right! They don't know! Then how do they know it wasn't the last one? Prove that!

FLEMING: [Looking around the room, uselessly, frantically] We ought to tear this house down and find the lousy sheet! [TONY joins him in searching]

SERGE: Prove that I lied to you! Find a jury, even a dumb American jury, that will want to look at me, when they hear of this very heroic genius — [Points at INGALLS] — alone in the garden, leaving his fingerprints on the gun!