Till lean is into streaky fat converted.

STIVER [unruffled].
Yes, nothing easier--I, too, in my day
Could do the trick.

GULDSTAD.
Dear me! Were you a poet?

MISS JAY.
My Stiver! Yes!

STIVER.
Oh, in a humble way.

MISS JAY [to the ladies].
His nature is romantic.

MRS. HALM.
Yes, we know it.

STIVER.
Not now; it's ages since I turned a rhyme.

FALK.
Yes varnish and romance go off with time.
But in the old days--?

STIVER.
Well, you see, 'twas when