Evje. But you must believe our protestations!
The Editor. Bah! You will see something more to-morrow--
Evje. Something more?
Mrs. Evje. Against my husband?
The Editor. That scandal about the Stock Exchange Committee. No less than three Letters to the Editor about it have been lying in my pigeon-holes for some time.
Evje (in bewilderment). Are you going to put nonsense of that sort in your paper? The most respected men on the Exchange--?
Mrs. Evje. Members of the Committee--?
The Editor. They are only respected men so long as they respect themselves. When their chairman enters into connections which offend public opinion, the whole crew of them must be made to feel what sort of a man it is they are a.s.sociating with.
The Doctor. So on Mr. Rejn"s account you are going to expose Evje, and on Evje"s account the Stock Exchange Committee? I suppose my turn will come soon!
The Editor. It will come.
The Doctor. Indeed!
The Editor. The letters that have been sent to me are all from highly respected men. That shows that public opinion has turned round; and public opinion must be obeyed! (Throws out his hands.)
Evje (in a troubled voice). It is quite true that I have noticed in several little ways that their temper--. (Looks round him, and checks himself. Then speaks more confidently.) But it was just at such a time that I looked for help from you, my friend. That is why I did not bother myself much about it.
The Editor (to EVJE). But you know it is you that are attacking me now!
Evje. I?
Mrs. Evje. He?
The Editor. And, besides, I have no choice in the matter. You have made your bed, and must lie on it.
Evje (growing angry again). But do you really mean that you don"t feel yourself how shocking such behaviour in an old friend is?
The Editor. "Old friend," "old schoolfellow," "neighbour,"--out with the whole catalogue!
Mrs. Evje. I am sure you don"t deserve to be either one or the other!
(The EDITOR laughs.) Think what you wrote to-day about Halvdan Rejn, who is dying. A man could only write that who--who--
The Editor. Well?--who?
Mrs. Evje. Who has not an atom of heart.
The Editor. Ha, ha! "The natural affections!"--"family considerations!"
Truth, my dear lady, has no family ties; it has no respect even for a "dying man."
Mrs. Evje. Yes, indeed--every decent man has some respect for suffering, and even wicked men are silent in the presence of death!
The Editor. "Sufferer"--"dying man"--"martyr," I suppose! Oh, we know all that old story!
Harald (coming forward). Let me tell you that you are a--person with whom I will not condescend to argue. (Walks away from him.)
The Editor (who has at once crossed the room). This theatrical flaunting of the "dying man" before people"s eyes, that a calculating brother has permitted himself, is of course what is really shocking in the whole affair. But I will tear the mask off him.
The Doctor (following him). Listen to me, now; listen! We are gentlefolk, you know! And even if Mr. Rejn has let himself be so carried away as to mention his dying brother on a public occasion--well, I am not going to say that I approve of it, but surely it is excusable and--
Harald (coming forward). I want none of your defence, thank you!
The Doctor. The one of you is just as mad as the other! (To the EDITOR.) But what has all this to do with Evje, seeing that, after all, the whole of this affair of the Rejns"--
Evje (to the EDITOR, eagerly). I give you my word of honour that I have never approved of Harald"s utterances about his brother, either. I am a man of moderation, as you know; I do not approve of his politics. Only to-day--
Mrs. Evje. And what on earth have politics to do with the Stock Exchange Committee?
The Doctor. Or with Evje"s coachman!
Evje. You might just as well take it into your head to write about my clerks, or my workmen, or--
The Doctor. His carpenters, or his brewers--or his horses!
The Editor (stands suddenly still and says, drily): You may a.s.sure yourselves that things are quite sufficient as they are! (Begins to b.u.t.ton up his coat.)
Evje. Is it so bad as all that!
Mrs. Evje. Good gracious!--what is it then?
The Editor (taking up his hat). You will be able to read it to-morrow, together with some more about the "dying man." Good-bye!
Evje and Mrs. Evje (together.) But before you go--
The Doctor. Hush, hush! Let us remember we are gentlefolk! What will you bet that the whole thing is not just a bogey to frighten you?
The Editor (holding out his hand towards the DOCTOR). I hold Mr. Evje"s position in the town in the hollow of my hand!
Evje (fuming). Is your object to ruin _that_, then?
Mrs. Evje. You will never succeed in that!
The Doctor. Hush, hush! let us remember we are gentlefolk!
Evje. In my own house--my old schoolfellow--that he should have the audacity--!
The Editor. I have told you the truth openly. And, as far as that goes, you have stood more than that from me in your own house, my boy. Because the misfortune is that you are a coward.
Evje. _I_ a coward?
The Doctor (laughing). Hush, hush! Let us remember we are gentlefolk!