STROEBEL [quickly]. In what? HAUTEVILLE. In the wardrobe. STROEBEL. Have you lost your senses? You are a prisoner here. Do you want to poke fun at us? HAUTEVILLE. No. STROEBEL. Then don't consider yourself so important with those meaning insinuations. HAUTEVILLE. If I did, I'd soon lose my importance after eating that yellow broth from those rusty tin plates. STROEBEL. And that will continue for some time. HAUTEVILLE. [energetically]. No, it will not. I tell you right now that I will not spend another night in that dirty hole. I will not be mistreated any longer. STROEBEL [with sarcasm]. Of course we are going to ask you for your kind permission. HAUTEVILLE. I will not remain here. If they think I will let them ruin me, they're very much mistaken. This is an outrage and here fair play stops. STROEBEL. The likes of you and fair play! HAUTEVILLE. [bitterly]. Yes, the likes of me. Every day we hear the confessions of those very people who publicly show contempt for us. We know how false are all virtuous words with which they condemn us, but we remain silent. STROEBEL. Of course, you do all this out of pure sense of fair play? [He imitates the motion of counting money.] HAUTEVILLE. Money? ... My dear fellow, with money our patrons pay well for that very thing which they later on call indecent. You get as much decency from us for money as you get from other people, but believe me, we could shatter many illusions. STROEBEL. Well, make a beginning right here. HAUTEVILLE. It ought to be impossible here. The police have as few illusions as we. That is, provided they are properly instructed. STROEBEL. That's right now, put us in the same class with yourself. HAUTEVILLE, Why not? We and the police could easily ruin the credit of virtue, but neither of us do it. You--you because you regard that credit as a good substitute for the principal, and we,--Lord, because we need this credit as well. STROEBEL. Both of us? HAUTEVILLE. The very moment that public virtue loses its credit, the secret vices will drop in market value. STROEBEL. What are you talking about anyway? HAUTEVILLE. I'm telling you why both of us must hush things up. STROEBEL. Then you are not convinced that there is a real public morality? HAUTEVILLE. You mean that morality which you put on with your street clothes? I know it well. Gentlemen take it off in my apartment and hang it up in my wardrobe, and there I can inspect it very thoroughly. It is truly remarkable how our respected gentlemen still make formal social visits in costumes which have so often been patched. REISACHER [who up to this point apparently--without paying any attention, has been sitting with his back toward them, turns half way round]. Pardon me, Herr Assessor. STROEBEL [impatiently]. Now what do you want? REISACHER. Pardon me, Herr Assessor, shall I put all this talk into the minutes? STROEBEL. No, I will dictate to you later. [To Hauteville.] You know that you are not here to amuse yourself.