Diane: "We ran together. Spring set the pace through the wild heather's bloom. We stopped, transfixed by a mayfly's flight. ls love not such, but easier to capture? 'A bug,' you said, crushing it. l smiled, but just a little." Well, what did you think?
Dick Cavett: Well, it... [clears throat] It could use a little bit of... What shall I say? It needs a little...
Diane: Ambiguity, tension and paradox?
Dick Cavett: Exactly.
Diane: Oh, I think I've solved that with "Ephemera ll". "The sky was gossamer..."
Sam: Diane?
Diane: Yes?
Diane: Diane, somebody wants you at another table.
Diane: Who?
Sam: Everybody at this one.