The Advocate, upon whom not a word that had passed had been lost, fixed his eyes upon Fritz, and said:
"A delusion can be turned to profit. You make use of these shadows."
"The saints forbid! They would burn me in brimstone. Yet," with a look both sly and vacant, "it would be a pity to waste them."
"You like to be called a fool. It pleases you."
"Why not?"
"Why, rather?"
"I might answer in your own words, that it can be turned to profit. But I am too great a fool to see in what way."
"You answer wisely. Why do you close your eyes?"
"I can see in the dark what I choose to see. When my eyes are open, I am their slave. When they are closed, they are mine--unless I dream."
The Advocate gazed for a moment or two in silence upon the white face with its closed eyes raised to his, and then said to his wife: