Doctor.—­They are in the left wing of the chateau.

Jan.—­Thank you.  But later I would like to have a talk with you.

Doctor.—­I will be at your service, sir.

(Jan goes toward the door.  He knocks against Anton.)

Anton.—­I beg your pardon, sir.

Jan.—­Pardon (he adjusts his monocle and looks at Anton—­then goes out).

Anton (to Doctor).—­I was told you were here and I rushed.  Listen, a matter of great importance. (Seeing Podczaski) What!  You are here?  Our adversary here?

Podczaski (speaking in Anton’s ear).—­I am no longer your adversary.

Anton (looking at him).—­So much the better then—­but leave us alone just the same.

Podczaski (aside).—­Bad. (Aloud) Gentleman, do not forget me. (Aside)
The devil has taken my hundred florins. (He goes out.)

Anton.—­What did he wish?

Doctor.—­Money.

Anton.—­Did you give it to him?

Doctor.—­No.

Anton.—­You did well.  We do not bribe.  But no matter about that.  What good luck that they put up Miliszewski for a candidate.  Otherwise you would be lost because Husarski would have had the majority.

Doctor.—­Anton, I am sure that we will be defeated.

Anton.—­No!  What am I for?  Uf!  How tired I am.  Let me rest for five minutes (he sits down).  Good gracious! how soft the furniture is here.  We must donate some money for some public purpose.  Have you any money?

Doctor.—­I have some.

Anton.—­We are going to give that money to build a school.

Doctor.—­Here is the key of my desk—­you will find some ready money there, and some checks.

Anton.—­Very well, but I must rest a moment.  In the mean while what is the news here?  You are not looking well.  Your eyes have sunken.  Upon my word, I was not so much in love with my wife.  Speak—­I will rest in the mean while—­but speak frankly.

Doctor.—­I will be frank with you.

Anton.—­What more?

Doctor.—­That marriage will be broken off.

Anton.—­Why.

Doctor.—­Because there are times when these people do not succeed in anything.

Anton.—­To the garret with those peacocks.  And what about that cannibal Pretwic?

Doctor.—­A long story.  The princess has mistaken the sympathy which she feels for him for something more serious.  To-day she knows that she does not love him.

Anton.—­That is good.  Truly, it looks as though they were pursued by fate.  It is the lot of races that have lived too long.

Doctor.—­Implacable logic of things.

Anton.—­Then she is not going to marry him.  I pity them, but to the deuce with sentimentality!

Doctor.—­She would marry him if it killed her to keep her word.  But there is a third person entangled in the matter—­Count Drahomir.

Anton.—­At every step one meets a count!  He betrays Pretwic?