The Editor (stopping). Nowhere—or rather, I am going home.
Evje. But you won't really do what you said?
The Editor. Ha! ha! ha! (Moves away.)
Evje (following him). No, listen! Listen to me for a minute.
The Editor (turning back). Do you think I have time to stop at all the stations your vanity or your fright will invent on the way? (Moves away.)
Evje. You mad creature—listen to me! (The EDITOR stops.) Tell me exactly what you mean to do?
The Editor. Fiddlesticks! (Moves on.)
Evje (following him). Do you mean to put in the paper that I have broken off this match?
The Editor (stopping). Better than that—I shall spread the news in the town; then it will get about, and all the journalists will get a hold of it.
Evje. Give me a day or two to think it over!