Here’s a friend who will not put me by.
We’ll start with Stiver’s lyric ecstasies.
Stiver [after a glance of horror at Strawman].
Are you quite mad! Nay then I must be heard!
You dare accuse me for a poet—
Miss Jay.
How—!
Falk.
Your office has averred it anyhow.
Stiver [in towering anger].