[_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! FALK. Pastor! STRAWMAN. Are you less Intractable than when we parted? FALK. Nay, I go my own inexorable way— STRAWMAN. Even tho’ you crush another’s happiness? FALK. I plant the flower of knowledge in its place. [_Smiling._ If, by the way, you have not ceased to think Of the Gazette— STRAWMAN. Ah, that was all a joke? FALK. Yes, pluck up courage, that will turn to smoke; I break the ice in action, not in ink. STRAWMAN. But even though you spare me, sure enough There’s one who won’t so lightly let me off; He has the advantage, and he won’t forego it, That lawyer’s clerk—and ’tis to you I owe it; You raked the ashes of our faded flames, And you may take your oath he won’t be still If once I mutter but a syllable Against the brazen bluster of his claims. These civil-service gentlemen, they say, Are very potent in the press to-day. A trumpery paragraph can lay me low, Once printed in that Samson-like Gazette That with the jaw of asses fells its foe, And runs away with tackle and with net, Especially towards the quarter day— FALK [_acquiescing_]. Ah, were there scandal in the case, indeed— STRAWMAN [_despondently_].