"I consider Communism to be, under certain circumstances, allowable," answered the old gentleman, dropping his eyes again, and in a scarcely audible voice.
"Then go home," said Uncle Ernst, "and take an hour's sleep to calm your excitement, and when you awake again, think that it is all a dream; and now not a word more, or I shall be really angry."
The old man did not venture to answer; he bowed himself out of the door, with a glance at Reinhold that seemed to say: "You are witness: I have done my duty."
Reinhold seized his uncle's hand. "Thank you!"
"What for? for not taking the poor old fool at his word? Pooh! he understands as much about such matters as a new-born baby, and has picked it all up out of his books, over which he spends half the night because he cannot sleep, and his Cilli, good little thing, keeps him company. That sort of Socialism will not do much harm.--Well!"
Grollmann, the old servant, had entered with an embarrassed look and a visiting card, which he passed from one hand to the other as if it were a bit of red-hot iron. And Uncle Ernst, as soon as he had glanced at the card, threw it on to the table as if it had burnt him. "Are you mad?"
"The young gentleman was so urgent," said Grollmann.
"I am not at home to him--once for all."
"It would only be for a few minutes; the Captain had spoken about him already."
"What does this mean, Reinhold?"