Yes, yes; I am sure you will.
Johan.
Here is my hand upon it. And now don’t let us talk any more of that old story; fortunately it is the only escapade either you or I have been mixed up in, I hope. And now I mean thoroughly to enjoy the few days I shall have here. You can’t think what a splendid walk we have had this forenoon. Who could have imagined that the little baggage that used to trot about and play angels in the theatre——! But tell me—what became of her parents afterwards?
Bernick.
Oh, there’s nothing to tell except what I wrote you immediately after you left. You got my two letters, of course?
Johan.
Of course, of course; I have them both. The drunken scoundrel deserted her?
Bernick.
And was afterwards killed in a drinking-bout.
Johan.