"Wait! In the first place there was nothing in the letter resembling an insult and, again, what further? The police would take you both into custody, and there they would discover that they had caught Laskowicz, a revolutionary bird, whom they have been seeking for a long time and would send him to Siberia, or even hang him. Can you take anything like that upon your conscience?" "May the deuce take these times," cried Ladislaus. "A man is always in a situation from which there is no escape." "As is usual between two anarchies," answered Gronski. "After all, this is a slight illustration." Further conversation was stopped by the entrance of a servant who handed to Gronski a visiting card and he, glancing at it, said: "Ask him to step in." Afterwards he asked Ladislaus: "Do you know Swidwicki?" "I have heard the name, but am not acquainted with the man." "He is a relative of Pani Otocka's deceased husband. A very peculiar figure." At that moment Swidwicki entered the room. He was a man of forty years, bald, tall, lean, with an intelligent and sour face, and at the same time impudent. He was attired carelessly in a suit which appeared to fit him too loosely. He had, however, something which betrayed his connection with the higher social spheres. "How is Swidwa?" Gronski began. After which he introduced him to Ladislaus and continued: "What has happened to you? I have not seen you for an age." "Why, you were out of the city." "Yes; but before that time you did not show up for a month." "In my old age I have become an anchorite." "Why?" "Because I am wearied by the folly of men who pass for reasonable beings and by the malice of men who pose as good. Finally, I now roam all over the streets from morning until night. Ah! There exist 'Attic Nights,' 'Florentine Nights,' and I have a desire to write about 'Warsaw Days.' Delightful days! Titles of the separate chapters 'Hands up! The Rabble on Top.' 'Away with the Geese.' Do you know that at this moment there are so many troops patrolling the streets that any one else in my place would have been arrested ten times." "I know, but how do you manage to avoid it?" "I walk everywhere as peacefully as if in my own rooms. The way I do it is simple. As often as I am not drunk, I pretend to be drunk. You would not believe what sympathy and respect an intoxicated person commands. And in my opinion this is but just, for whoever is 'under the influence' from morning till night is innocent and well thinking; upon him the so-called social order can rely with confidence." "Surely. But the social order which depended upon such people would not stand upon steady legs."