Rebecca. Are you on your way to the town, Mr. Brendel?
Brendel. You have hit the nail on the head, ma'am. At certain intervals I am obliged to do something for my living. I do not do it willingly—but, enfin—when needs must—
Rosmer. My dear Mr. Brendel, will you not let me be of assistance to you? In some way or another, I mean—
Brendel. Ah, what a proposal to come from you! Could you wish to soil the tie that binds us together? Never, John—never!
Rosmer. But what do you propose to do in the town, then? I assure you, you won't find it so easy—
Brendel. Leave that to me, my boy. The die is cast. The unworthy individual who stands before you is started on an extensive campaign—more extensive than all his former excursions put together. (To KROLL.) May I venture to ask you, Professor—unter uns—are there in your esteemed town any fairly decent, respectable and spacious assembly-rooms?
Kroll. The most spacious is the hall belonging to the Working Men's Association.
Brendel. May I ask, sir, if you have any special influence with that no doubt most useful Association?
Kroll. I have nothing whatever to do with it.
Rebecca (to BRENDEL). You ought to apply to Peter Mortensgaard.