Coldevin had grown still more absurd, although he spoke with his usual calm deliberation. He was obstinate; he talked about the suffrage movement, and even hinted that it would be better if women should be a little more anxious to make their homes attractive. It was wrong, he said, that women should think too little of their home life and prefer a hall-room in order to become what they called "independent." They had to "study" until they, too, could wear glasses; they went to a business school if they could do no better. And they did their things so excellently that they were graduated, and if they were lucky they would finally secure a position at twenty crowns a month. Fine! But they had to pay twenty-seven for the hall-room and meals. Then they were "independent"! "But you cannot say that it is the fault of the women if their work is paid so poorly," objected the Attorney, whose wife was liberal. Certainly, these arguments were familiar; they were old and tried. They had been answered, but.... In fact, they had been riddled several thousand times. But the worst of it was that the home was simply destroyed by the corroding influence of these ideas. Coldevin accentuated this. He had noticed that a great many people here in the city mainly lived in the restaurants. He had looked for acquaintances in their homes, but in vain; however, he met them when he occasionally went to a café. He did not want to speak about artists and authors; they simply did not have nor did they want any other home than the cafés, and he did not understand how they could accomplish anything under these circumstances. But women nowadays were lacking in ambition and heart; they were satisfied with the mixed company they found in these hang-outs. They did not extend themselves in any one direction; they were not occupied with any single idea; they became simply roundheaded. God, how rarely one nowadays saw real race! Somebody in the procession called for cheers and was answered with scattering hurrahs. Coldevin cheered enthusiastically, although he did not hear what the cheers were for. He looked resentfully down the ranks and swung his hat, urging the marchers to shout still louder. "These people don't know how to cheer!" he said. "They shout in a whisper; nobody can hear them. Help me, Mr. Attorney, and we'll liven them up!" The Attorney thought it fun and shouted with him until they succeeded in stirring up the dying hurrahs. "Once again!" shouted Coldevin. And again the cheers rolled down the ranks. The Attorney said smilingly: "That you should _care_ to do this!" Coldevin looked at him. He said seriously: