Rosmer. Where are you going, so late as this?
Brendel. Downhill.
Rosmer. How—?
Brendel. I am on my way home, my beloved pupil. I am homesick for the great Nothingness.
Rosmer. Something has happened to you, Mr. Brendel! What is it?
Brendel. Ah, you notice the transformation, then? Well, it is evident enough. The last time I entered your doors I stood before you a man of substance, slapping a well-filled pocket.
Rosmer. Really? I don't quite understand—
Brendel. And now, as you see me to-night, I am a deposed monarch standing over the ashes of my burnt-out palace.
Rosmer. If there is any way I can help you
Brendel. You have preserved your childlike heart, John—can you let me have a loan?