ADELAIDE.
We have seen the last of him! Conrad, I'm one of the party!
BOLZ.
Hallelujah! I hear countless angels blowing on their trumpets! I'll stay with the Union!
ADELAIDE.
About that I am no longer the one to decide. For I have still a confession to make to you. I, too, am not the real owner of the newspaper.
BOLZ.
You are not? Now, by all the gods, I am at my wit's end. I'm beginning not to care who this owner is. Be he man, will-of-the-wisp, or the devil Beelzebub in person, I bid him defiance.
ADELAIDE.
He is a kind of a will-of-the-wisp, a little something of a devil, and from top to toe a great rogue. For, Conrad, my friend, beloved of my youth, it is you yourself.