Heire.
Yes; it’s shameful the way things go on. Only last New Year, when the managership of the Savings Bank fell vacant, what must they do but give Monsen the go-by, and choose an individual that knew—[Coughs]—that knew how to keep his purse-strings drawn—which our princely host obviously does not. Whenever there’s a post of confidence going, it’s always the same! Never Monsen—always some one that enjoys the confidence—of the people in power. Well, well; commune suffragium, as the Roman Law puts it; that means shipwreck in the Common Council, sir.[[12]] It’s a shame! Your health!
Monsen.
Thanks! But, to change the subject—how are all your law-suits getting on?
Heire.
They are still pending; I can say no more for the present. What endless annoyance they do give me! Next week I shall have to summon the whole Town Council before the Arbitration Commission.[[13]]
Bastian.
Is it true that you once summoned yourself before the Arbitration Commission?
Heire.
Myself? Yes; but I didn’t put in an appearance.