LUKA. They’re papers just the same—and no papers are any good—
PEPEL. Baron—come on to the saloon with me—
THE BARON. I’m ready. Good-bye, old man—you old scamp—
LUKA. Maybe I am one, brother—
PEPEL [near doorway] Come on—come on!
[Leaves, Baron following him quickly.]
LUKA. Was he really once a Baron?
BUBNOFF. Who knows? A gentleman—? Yes. That much he’s even now. Occasionally it sticks out. He never got rid of the habit.
LUKA. Nobility is like small-pox. A man may get over it—but it leaves marks . . .