Mr. Y. Certainly!  Mr. X. And you are going to report me if you don’t get six thousand crowns?

Mr. Y. Most decidedly!  You can’t get out of it, so there’s no use trying.

Mr. X. You think I am going to give my father a thief for son, my wife a thief for husband, my children a thief for father, my fellow-workers a thief for colleague?  No, that will never happen!- -Now I am going over to the sheriff to report the killing myself.

Mr. Y. [Jumps up and begins to pick up his things] Wait a moment!

Mr. X. For what?

Mr. Y. [Stammering] Oh, I thought—­as I am no longer needed—­it wouldn’t be necessary for me to stay—­and I might just as well leave.

Mr. X. No, you may not!—­Sit down there at the table, where you sat before, and we’ll have another talk before you go.

Mr. Y. [Sits down after having put on a dark coat] What are you up to now?

Mr. X. [Looking into the mirror back of Mr. Y.] Oh, now I have it!  Oh-h-h!

Mr. Y. [Alarmed] What kind of wonderful things are you discovering now?

Mr. X. I see in the mirror that you are a thief—­a plain, ordinary thief!  A moment ago, while you had only the white shirt on, I could notice that there was something wrong about my book-shelf.  I couldn’t make out just what it was, for I had to listen to you and watch you.  But as my antipathy increased, my vision became more acute.  And now, with your black coat to furnish the needed color contrast For the red back of the book, which before couldn’t be seen against the red of your suspenders—­now I see that you have been reading about forgeries in Bernheim’s work on mental suggestion—­for you turned the book upsidedown in putting it back.  So even that story of yours was stolen!  For tins reason I think myself entitled to conclude that your crime must have been prompted by need, or by mere love of pleasure.

Mr. Y. By need!  If you only knew—­

Mr. X. If you only knew the extent of the need I have had to face and live through!  But that’s another story!  Let’s proceed with your case.  That you have been in prison—­I take that for granted.  But it happened in America, for it was American prison life you described.  Another thing may also be taken for granted, namely, that you have not borne your punishment on this side.

Mr. Y. How can you imagine anything of the kind?

Mr. X. Wait until the sheriff gets here, and you’ll learn all about it.

(Mr. Y. gets up.)

Me.  X. There you see!  The first time I mentioned the sheriff, in connection with the storm, you wanted also to run away.  And when a person has served out his time he doesn’t care to visit an old mill every day just to look at a prison, or to stand by the window—­in a word, you are at once punished and unpunished.  And that’s why it was so hard to make you out. [Pause.]