MR. Y. Would you have been willing to make his acquaintance if he had
been--punished?
MR. X. Perfectly!
(MR. Y. rises and walks back and forth several times.)
MR. X. Sit still! Why can't you sit still?
MR. Y. How did you get your liberal view of human conditions? Are you a
Christian?
MR. X. Oh, can't you see that I am not?
(MR. Y. makes a face.)
MR. X. The Christians require forgiveness. But I require punishment in
order that the balance, or whatever you may call it, be restored. And
you, who have served a term, ought to know the difference.
MR. Y. [Stands motionless and stares at MR. X., first with wild, hateful
eyes, then with surprise and admiration] How--could--you--know--that?
MR. X. Why, I could see it.
MR. Y. How? How could you see it?
MR. X, Oh, with a little practice. It is an art, like many others. But
don't let us talk of it any more. [He looks at his watch, arranges a
document on the table, dips a pen in the ink-well, and hands it to MR.
Y.] I must be thinking of my tangled affairs. Won't you please witness
my signature on this note here? I am going to turn it in to the bank at
Malmo tomorrow, when I go to the city with you.
MR. Y. I am not going by way of Malmo.
MR. X. Oh, you are not?
MR. Y. No.
MR. X. But that need not prevent you from witnessing my signature.