Hans.—Is that true! You were of service to my poor father before as well as after death. I shall not forget.
Julia.—That’s nothing to talk about. That is my calling, and it happened to be my assigned duty in this house until last evening.
Hans.—I thank you, too, doctor, for all you have done here.
Crowe.—Please, please, how could I help doing for the dear old physician who established the pharmacy, and through it maintained such valuable public service. Surely he deserves special consideration . . . Allow me to take my leave. It seemed foreordained that I should be called upon again before daybreak. I beg you to accept my heartfelt sympathy.
Hans.—Thanks, heartily, doctor.
Julia (Leading Hans to lodge).—Come, Mr. Karvan.
Crowe.—I take my leave of you, sir Dean. You have my deepest sympathy for the loss of your brother.
Dean.—Thanks, thanks, it is much safer for him under the Shadow of the Almighty, than here among the lies of men . . . I shall have to go, too, in a minute; I have an officium at seven.
Crowe.—I kiss your hand, my lady. It would do the little fellow no harm if you should let him sleep here in the garden all night. On a hot night like this it would be better, indeed. I take my leave, respectfully. (Exit.)
Dean.—My dear, you seemed touched by the words about your father I had occasion to pronounce a while ago. Believe me, although I am extremely sorry, I feel that I am unable to take back a syllable of what I said. I do not feel obliged to apologize for my . . . for my . . . perhaps, tactless remark.
Ann.—My dear sir, if my father was indeed guilty, he was his own most severe judge, and he satisfied the demands of justice.
Dean.—So, so, that is the very thing I meant to say.
Ann.—And I believe it would be more in keeping with your high office of love if you should rather pity and forgive.
Dean.—For a deed like his my office should and must not feel any compassion. Your father, forgive me, was a godless unbeliever all his life, and by his own judgment upon himself he did not atone for, but he rather added to his burden of sin. The one evil was born of the other. And now, behold! There lies the latest victim of the original sin, my brother!
Ann.—Your brother! For almost ten years this brother has been dead to you. From the day of our marriage you never
