The guests rose from the table and scattered about the adjoining rooms. Cabinska, followed by a few ladies, repaired to the boudoir for tea. In the first room a few tables were arranged and a game of cards commenced.
Only Gold still sat at the festal board and ate, relating something to Glas, who was now quite drunk.
"They are poor people. . . . My sister is a widow with six children;
I help her as much as I can, but that doesn't amount to much. . . .
And, in the meanwhile, the children are growing up and need ever
more . . ." Gold was saying.
"Then cheat us more, you dog's face! . . ."
"The elder is about to take up a medical course, the next in age is a store clerk and the rest of them are such small and weak and sickly tots that it pains one to look at them!"
"Then drown them, like puppies! . . . Drown them and be done with it!" mumbled Glas.
"You are very drunk . . ." whispered Gold scornfully, "you have no idea what children are! . . ."
"Get married and you'll have kids of your own . . ." stuttered Glas.
"I can't . . . I must first see that these are provided for," replied Gold quietly grasping a cup of tea in both hands and sipping it in little gulps, "I must first make men of them . . ." he added, his eyes glowing.
All around there was a hum of voices as in a beehive when the swarm of young bees is ready to fly out into the world. The hidden desires, envies, feuds, and troubles broke out irresistibly. The talking grew louder, people were denounced without pardon, slandered without mercy, reviled and derided without pity. Those assembled there had now become their natural selves: no one masked himself any longer nor confined himself within the bounds of one role. All played a thousand different roles. The hidden comedy of souls now found its stage, its audience, and its actors, often very talented ones.