"Aristophanes!" exclaimed the Professor. "You are unique! You are number twenty-three."
"Why twenty-three?"
"Because that is neither much nor little."
"Your daughter thinks my plays will sell, but I tell you frankly I doubt it."
"How can you instruct and inspire if nobody listens?"
"They must listen in the end, else why am I here?"
The Professor relinquished his chase, to stare again. "You are at least sincere in your belief in yourself—twenty-three. I'd like to hear some of these great ideas of yours."
"Very well. I am going to read a play to your daughter this evening. If you care to come, you may listen. Then you will see that it would pay you to stake me for a couple of years."
"I'll come and listen."
"If you decide to undertake me, I insist that you shall not continue this scornful avoidance of me. If we three are to live together, we must live in harmony, which is necessary to my work."