Ah, they used to be fine pistols,--beautiful pistols. See, boy, with this I have hit the ace of hearts at twenty paces, or say fifteen. And fifteen would be enough. We ought to have been in the garden already, but--but [helplessly touches his trembling arm, almost in tears]--but I can nevermore--
MAX.
[Hurrying to him.] Uncle? [They embrace each other for a moment.]
SCHWARTZE.
It's all right,--it's all right.
MAX.
Uncle, I need not say that I take your place, that I meet any man you point out; it is my right.
SCHWARTZE.
Yours,--why? In what capacity? Will you marry into a disgraced family?