STRAWMAN [on the verandah].
He's really leaving! [Going down to STIVER.
Ah, my dear sir, let
Me beg you just a moment to go in
And hold my wife—
STIVER.
I—hold her, sir?
STRAWMAN.
I mean
In talk. The little ones and we are so
Unused to be divided, there is no
Escaping—
[His wife and children appear in the door.
Ha! already on my trail.
MRS. STRAWMAN.
Where are you, Strawman?
STRAWMAN [aside to STIVER].
Do invent some tale,
Something amusing—something to beguile!
STIVER [going on to the verandah].
Pray, madam, have you read the official charge?
A masterpiece of literary style.
[Takes a book from his pocket.
Which I shall now proceed to cite at large.
[Ushers her politely into the room, and follows
himself. FALK comes forward; he and Strawman
meet; they regard one another a moment in
silence.
STRAWMAN.
Well?
FALK.
Well?
STRAWMAN.
Falk?