STROEBEL [with sarcasm]. Of course we are going to ask you for your kind permission.

HAUTEVILLE. I will not remain here. If they think I will let them ruin me, they're very much mistaken. This is an outrage and here fair play stops.

STROEBEL. The likes of you and fair play!

HAUTEVILLE. [bitterly]. Yes, the likes of me. Every day we hear the confessions of those very people who publicly show contempt for us. We know how false are all virtuous words with which they condemn us, but we remain silent.

STROEBEL. Of course, you do all this out of pure sense of fair play? [He imitates the motion of counting money.]

HAUTEVILLE. Money? ... My dear fellow, with money our patrons pay well for that very thing which they later on call indecent. You get as much decency from us for money as you get from other people, but believe me, we could shatter many illusions.

STROEBEL. Well, make a beginning right here.

HAUTEVILLE. It ought to be impossible here. The police have as few illusions as we. That is, provided they are properly instructed.

STROEBEL. That's right now, put us in the same cla.s.s with yourself.

HAUTEVILLE, Why not? We and the police could easily ruin the credit of virtue, but neither of us do it. You--you because you regard that credit as a good subst.i.tute for the princ.i.p.al, and we,--Lord, because we need this credit as well.

STROEBEL. Both of us?

HAUTEVILLE. The very moment that public virtue loses its credit, the secret vices will drop in market value.

STROEBEL. What are you talking about anyway?

HAUTEVILLE. I'm telling you why both of us must hush things up.

STROEBEL. Then you are not convinced that there is a real public morality?

HAUTEVILLE. You mean that morality which you put on with your street clothes? I know it well. Gentlemen take it off in my apartment and hang it up in my wardrobe, and there I can inspect it very thoroughly. It is truly remarkable how our respected gentlemen still make formal social visits in costumes which have so often been patched.

REISACHER [who up to this point apparently--without paying any attention, has been sitting with his back toward them, turns half way round]. Pardon me, Herr a.s.sessor.

STROEBEL [impatiently]. Now what do you want?

REISACHER. Pardon me, Herr a.s.sessor, shall I put all this talk into the minutes?

STROEBEL. No, I will dictate to you later. [To Hauteville.] You know that you are not here to amuse yourself.

HAUTEVILLE. I know that.

STROEBEL. Listen to me quietly. You hinted before that if we kept you here another night you would confess everything. Well I tell you here and now that we will not keep you here one, but a number of nights. You can ease your conscience at once.

HAUTEVILLE. I would only make yours the heavier for it.

STROEBEL. My conscience?

HAUTEVILLE. Yes, if I tell you here, there will be no possibility of a mistake, but everything must remain a mistake.

STROEBEL. I have patience with you, but I will not let you fool me.

Now get yourself together and consider every word. What must remain a mistake?

HAUTEVILLE. Everything that has happened since Sat.u.r.day night.

STROEBEL. All that must remain a mistake?

HAUTEVILLE. It simply must not have happened. No one broke into my apartment. No one arrested me. No one compelled anyone to hide in the wardrobe.

STROEBEL [shouts.] And no one ever saw such an insolent female.

HAUTEVILLE. This browbeating.

STROEBEL. It is meant for such as you.

HAUTEVILLE. [indignantly stopping her ears]. It reminds one so much of the tin plates and the comb.

STROEBEL [angrily pacing the room]. I never heard anything like it.

Picture it! She makes insinuations as though we had something to be afraid of. [He stops pacing and faces her.] You evidently imagine that the whole government would run away from you.

HAUTEVILLE. No, but it ran away from your Lieutenant.

STROEBEL. Where?

HAUTEVILLE. Into the wardrobe.

STROEBEL [pacing up and down]. I will bring that fellow out of your wardrobe. I will bring him to light. Into bright daylight! [Remains standing in front of Hauteville.] What did you say?

HAUTEVILE. Non.

STROEBEL [resuming his pacing']. One of those fine fellows who wallow in the mire and then expect us to make exceptions. [Stops pacing, facing Hauteville.] What were you saying?

HAUTEVILLE. Nothing.

STROEBEL. Sad enough that now and again a halfway decent person strays into your place.

HAUTEVILLE. He can only regret that he was disturbed.

STROEBEL [goes quickly to desk and unlocks a drawer]. Besides, do not deceive yourself. We do not need your disclosures. [He takes out a rather bulky paper, a school composition book, and holds it triumphantly in the air.] There; do you recognize this?

HAUTEVILLE. [quietly, without a single trace of surprise]. It looks like my diary.

STROEBEL. It is your book. It was found in your desk.

HAUTEVILLE. [very calm]. The desk was locked,

STROEBEL. It was broken open. Well? What about your loyalty now?

HAUTEVILLE. [shrugs her shoulders]. I kept it. I haven't a fire-proof safe.