Berthold shrugged his shoulders. "I have never denied that I have an antipathy for Baron Wergenthin. That is why the whole business was so painful to me from the very beginning."
"Is that why?"
"Yes."
"And yet I think, Berthold, that you would regard the matter differently if you were to meet Anna Rosner again some time or other as a widow—even assuming that her late husband was even more antipathetic to you than Baron von Wergenthin."
"That's possible. One can certainly presume that she has been loved—or at any rate respected, not just taken and—chucked away as soon as the spree was over. I'd have found that rather.... Well, I won't put it any more definitely."
The old man shook his head as he looked at his son. "It really seems as though all the advanced views of you young people break down as soon as your passions and vanities come into question."
"So far as certain questions of cleanness or cleanliness are concerned I do not know that I am guilty of any so-called advanced views, father, and I don't think that you would be particularly delighted either if I felt any desire to be the successor of a more or less dead Baron Wergenthin."
"Certainly not, Berthold. For her sake, especially, for you would torture her to death."
"Don't be uneasy," replied Berthold, "Anna's in no peril from my quarter. It's all over."
"That's a good reason. But, happily, there's an even better one. Baron Wergenthin's neither dead nor has he cleared out...."