Trast. Then listen to me! Perhaps it may be of use to you. When my comrades said farewell to me they did me the last favor of placing a cocked revolver on my table. I looked at the matter from all sides. I took for granted that, without my honor I could not live. Then, as I pointed the thing to my forehead the thought came to me--this is brutal, this is silly! How different are you to-day from what you were three days ago? Perhaps you deserved punishment for having promised money that you didn't have; but not death! For thousands of years men have enjoyed the light of the sun without letting the phantom of honor darken it. To-day nine hundred and ninety thousands of people belong to that same class, live as they did, and work as they did, and enjoy the sun as they did! Twelve years later--of course my debt was long since cancelled--when I came back to Europe a sort of reconciliation took place between my father and me. But it was only an outward reconciliation. If he had found me, like a prodigal son, lying on his doorstep, he would have lifted me up from the dirt with trembling hands and pressed me to his bosom. Since I carried my head a little defiantly and was in a position to help him out with half a million or so he couldn't forgive me. A few weeks later I left. The rich coffee seller and the poor cavalier had nothing in common. Robert. And now he's dead! Trast. May he find peace in the heaven he believed in! Now the moral: leave your parents their point of view. You can't change that. Give where there is need--give all you have, and then--come with me! Robert. I can't! Listen, I'll tell you why. I didn't tell you before because I was ashamed. I have a little sister, she was a baby when I left. Oh, how I longed to see her and looked forward to the meeting! And I wasn't disappointed, for she was prettier and sweeter than I had hoped! But my love for her before a thousand fears I am afraid to mention! For what she does and lets others do with her--in perfect innocence, of course--goes against every feeling of honor I possess! Just now when you were telling about that girl in the dance-hall; a cold shiver went through me! Because--no, no, a thousand times no! Here is my place! I must stay here, to stand or fall! Trast. I admit you have reasons that are at least worth considering. But you are excited. I'll wager you are looking at the dark side! Robert. Would to God! (_He sits down_) (_Enter_ Alma, _with a tea-tray, upon which is a bottle of wine and three glasses. The Count makes a start_, Alma _cries out. The tea-tray almost falls_) Trast. (_Quickly seizing the situation, steps to her aid_) Came near being a catastrophe, Fraulein! (_Aside_) It is a catastrophe! Robert. See, Trast, this is she! Isn't she an angel? There, give him your hand, and tell him he's welcome! Alma. (_Aside_) Don't tell on me--eh? Trast. (_Aside_) Poor devil! How can I get him out of it? CURTAIN.