Bruning entered the room simultaneously with the servant.
“Ah, I am glad to find you in, Helmer; I have been for a long time anxious to have a sensible chat with you.”
Helmer did not share this longing; the call seemed to him highly inopportune; but what else could he say than “Fine; I’m pleased to see you. Sit down.”
Bruning made himself at home. “You don’t look quite up to concert-pitch, old man? Evidently, you are right glad to have the whole affair over and done with. I, too, am glad enough that it will be ended in a couple of days. A good deal has been very interesting, but the whole effect is so exotic and so extravagant. You know me—I can’t stand humbug. What’s your plan? Where are you going from here?”
“Going back to Berlin. And you?”
“I am going to the Sielenburg. The old Countess Schollendorf invited me. The Sielenburg really belongs to Miss Garlett, doesn’t it? And she has still other estates? All of it might have been yours long ago if you had been a bit clever. But you have let her get snapped away from you: every one has seen that the German prince is after her.”
Helmer made a gesture of annoyance. “And you call this a sensible chat?”
“Well, then, let’s talk about other things. There is lots of news. Our famous sportsman yesterday got a pair of wings fitted to him and fell into the lake.”
“Regenburg? Was he drowned?”
“No, they fished him out. But if I know him, he will not rest until he has flown round the Stefansturm. Ambition is a fine thing and especially when, by satisfying it, one breaks his own neck and not other people’s ... as ambitious statesmen are mighty apt to do. In their case hundreds of thousands are in danger of their lives.”