MR. Y. How did you get such a liberal attitude towards people's conduct? Are you a Christian?
MR. X. No,—of course I couldn't be,—as you've just heard. The Christians demand forgiveness, but I demand punishment for the restoration of balance, or whatever you like to call it, and you, who have served time, ought to understand that.
MR. Y. [Stops as if transfixed. Regards Mr. X. at first with wild hatred, them with surprise and wonderment.] How—do—you—know—that?
MR. X. It's plain to be seen.
MR. Y. How? How can you see it?
MR. X. I have taught myself. That's an art, too. But we won't talk about that matter. [Looks at his watch. Takes out a paper for signing. Dips a pen and offers it to Mr. Y.] I must think about my muddled affairs. Now be so kind as to witness my signature on this note, which I must leave at the bank at Malmö when I go there with you tomorrow morning.
MR. Y. I don't intend to go by way of Malmö.
MR. X. No?
MR. Y. No.
MR. X. But you can witness my signature nevertheless.