"At any rate," observed Gronski, "a certain ventilation of torpid conditions is taking place, and since you compared yourself to a microbe, by the same token, you admit that these are times for disinfection."
At this Dolhanski turned to Ladislaus.
"Thank Gronski," he said, "for the disinfection started with you; from which the plain inference is to be drawn that you are a more harmful microbe than I am."
"Get married, get married," answered Ladislaus banteringly; "for you, a good marriage settlement would be the best cure for pessimism."
"That may be possible, as in that case, I may have something with which I can leave this dear country and settle elsewhere. I once told you that Providence speaks through the lips of little innocents. But I should have thought of marriage when in the perspective there were no Goreks, but instead, four million franks."
"Did you have such an opportunity?"
"As you see me here. It happened in Ostend; an old Belgian relict of a manufacturer of preserves, and having cash to the amount specified, wanted to marry me and that for the waiting."
"And what?"
"And nothing. I remember what Pan Birkowski, who at that time was in Ostend, told me. 'Do business,' he said. 'At the worst, you may leave the old woman two millions and leave her in the lurch, and you can take two millions with you and enjoy yourself like a king.'"
"And what did you say to that?"