After which he introduced him to Ladislaus and continued:
"What has happened to you? I have not seen you for an age."
"Why, you were out of the city."
"Yes; but before that time you did not show up for a month."
"In my old age I have become an anchorite."
"Why?"
"Because I am wearied by the folly of men who pass for reasonable beings and by the malice of men who pose as good. Finally, I now roam all over the streets from morning until night. Ah! There exist 'Attic Nights,' 'Florentine Nights,' and I have a desire to write about 'Warsaw Days.' Delightful days! Titles of the separate chapters 'Hands up! The Rabble on Top.' 'Away with the Geese.' Do you know that at this moment there are so many troops patrolling the streets that any one else in my place would have been arrested ten times."
"I know, but how do you manage to avoid it?"
"I walk everywhere as peacefully as if in my own rooms. The way I do it is simple. As often as I am not drunk, I pretend to be drunk. You would not believe what sympathy and respect an intoxicated person commands. And in my opinion this is but just, for whoever is 'under the influence' from morning till night is innocent and well thinking; upon him the so-called social order can rely with confidence."
"Surely. But the social order which depended upon such people would not stand upon steady legs."