HAUSER [seriously]. Have you been carrying on so badly at Hauteville's?
BEERMANN. No. Not there. That is not worth while mentioning.
HAUSER. Why then do you fear the police? That's all nonsense. Now just consider everything quietly and calmly. By the way, has your wife any suspicions ...?
BEERMANN. Of this affair? I don't think so. She has just a general one ... but what's the use of bothering with trifles! You know that this stupid woman kept a diary, and that they found it in her apartment.
HAUSER. Assuredly I know it. Without that diary we would not have so many penitents in the City.
BEERMANN. Imagine my position. I know positively that my name is in that book. It means that I am simply done for by the cursed thing.
HAUSER. Is it so certain that your name is in the book?
BEERMANN [loudly]. Yes, sir.
HAUSER. It may be possible that ...
BEERMANN. It is not at all possible. My name is there. Shall I quietly sit and wait until I am ruined? You know that I would be ruined if it became public. Fancy, I, the candidate for the Reichstag; I, the President of the Society for the Suppression of Vice! All the papers would be full of it.