"I know it; we have been so for a long while," was Lucie's reply, given with forced calmness.

"You deceive yourself. I am far worse off than you think. I have lost all,--everything! More than we ever possessed! I am overwhelmed with debt; we are on the brink of an abyss from which there is but one means of escape."

"We should have adopted it long since."

Sorr looked up in astonishment. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"That we must at last resign the life we have led hitherto. I have often, but always in vain, begged you to do so. Now necessity will force you to it, and if you really see this at last I shall bless this hour. By honest labour we can regain what we have lost. We have influential friends, by whose aid we can easily begin life anew in another city. You can procure some official position, and I will give lessons in music and drawing, or in French and English. With courage and determination we can easily achieve a secure independence."

"You are mad!"

This was all the reply that Sorr had for Lucie's words. Then he laughed aloud. "It is incredible," he said, more to himself than to her, "the wild ideas that will fill a woman's brain! An official post with a few hundred thalers of salary--too much to starve upon, too little to procure enough to eat! Tiresome work, from morning until night, and hectored by a superior officer, to whom one must cringe. Regarded askance by gentlemen. A pretty position! No, rather a bullet through my brains and the whole mummery at an end. No need to waste a word upon such nonsense. If I cannot live as I have been accustomed to live, I had rather not live at all. This is not the means of escape which I have to propose to you." He paused a moment; it was difficult to say what he had to, but he could delay no longer, and he continued, "We must separate, Lucie!"

"You forget that this is impossible," Lucie replied, forcing herself to speak calmly; "a Catholic marriage cannot be dissolved, or ours would have been so long ago."

"Nonsense! I am not talking of a divorce, which is of course impossible, but of a separation. I have a proposal to make to you; I know that at first it will seem odious to you; I do not like it myself, but upon calm reflection you will see that in it lies our only means of salvation. You must first know how matters stand with me, and this I will tell you in as few words as possible. Our need is such that in my despair I was induced to--to--it must out, there is no help for it--Count Styrum's pocket-book lay open before me, and I took from it a hundred-thaler note."

Lucie recoiled; incapable of uttering a word, she stared at her husband. A thief! No; for this she had not been prepared; this exceeded her worst forebodings,--a thief! And he could confess his shameful deed thus with cynical frankness; he did not even repent it; he was not crushed and despairing. Had he not just expressed his contempt for honest labour? A thief! And to this man she was bound by an indissoluble tie!