"And that is why you came after me?"
"Yes."
"Now what do you want?"
"I want you to leave that woman."
"Have you lost your senses?"
"Mine? Not yet."
"You wish perhaps to hint that I have lost mine: it is possible, very possible."
Therewith he sat down beside the table, and leaning his chin on his hands, began to gaze abstractedly into the candle-flames like some real lunatic.
I stepped up to him, and laid my head on his shoulder.
"Dear Lorand, you are angry with me."