"Count up to twenty . . ." laughed Kotlicki.
"Just as is the public, so are its theaters; one is worth as much as the other!" remarked Majkowska.
"He who wants to rule the multitude and rule over it, must flatter it and do that which the multitude wants; he must give it that which it needs; he must first be its slave so that he may later become its master," said Kotlicki slowly and with unction.
"I will say: no! I neither want to cringe to the mob, nor be its master; I prefer to go my own way alone . . ." answered Glogowski emphatically.
"A splendid standpoint! From it you can laugh at everyone to your heart's content."
"Miss Janina, please let me have some tea!" cried the already irritated Glogowski, springing up violently, throwing his hat at a tree and feverishly rumpling his sparse hair.
"You are ever a fiery radical of native breed," said Kotlicki with a good-natured irony.
"And you are a poor fish, a seal, a whale . . ."
"Count up to twenty!"
"Those are fine arguments, indeed! . . . Here is a much better one," cried Wawrzecki, handing Glogowski his cane.