Write her—oh, you know what to write: that I will give the matter my personal attention. The Girl. Yes, sir. She says she doesn't want a big return on her investment. She wants something that will be perfectly safe, and she knows you will take care of her. Strickland. Yes. Of course. What else have you? The Girl. A dozen other letters like it. Strickland. All from old women? The Girl. Some of them. Here is one from a young man who has saved a little money. He says that when he gets a little more he's going to open a store, and go into business for himself. Here is another from a girl whose father was an ironworker. He was killed accidentally, and she wants you to invest the insurance. Here is another from—but they're all pretty much alike. Strickland. Why did you bring them here? The Girl. Every one of these letters asks you to do the investing yourself. Strickland. Oh! The Girl. And you're leaving town to-night. Here are the checks. Every one of them is made out to you personally; not to the firm.

Strickland Monologue from The Finger of God

Rehearse Strickland's monologue