“Oh, I understand!” exclaimed M. de la Rochère. “Women are to mix in politics. How advantageous that is has been shown by the tricoteuses around the guillotine and the pétroleuses during the Commune.... Woman is a créature d’amour.... Wife, mistress, odalisque ... that is our French ideal!”
“In Germany, also, a feminine ideal has been established,” remarked Bruning; “that of three capital K’s:—Kirche, Kinder, Küche—church, children, kitchen.”
The Italian Minister turned the conversation: “Do you know, Herr Helmer, two years ago, when I was passing through Berlin, I attended the première of your last drama and was delighted at its great success. I hope the piece is to be given soon on the Italian stage.”
“Indeed, Your Excellency, that has actually been arranged for—it is to be presented next winter at Milan.”
“Unless in the mean time,” said Bruning, laughing, “the great European war should break out which the signor marchese predicts.”
Helmer shrugged his shoulders. “Oh, yes, that famous unavoidable European war of the future, which has been announced for many long years, but which nevertheless, so far, has been warded off.”
“So you still think it avoidable, do you?” asked the Countess Vera.
“I consider it impossible. Unless Europe takes up with a suicidal policy.”
Bruning tapped Helmer on the shoulder: “This shows what an incorrigible idealist you are—deaf and blind to the coarse realities of life. You look on men as angels, while in reality they are beasts.”
Helmer impatiently shook Bruning’s hand from his shoulder: “Present company excepted, it is to be hoped,” said he. “But you know that I will not have a controversy with you.”