He fingered his glass nervously and
looked down. But suddenly it seemed as if Irgens's insolence had roused
him; he said bluntly and without connection with what had been discussed
before:
"Tell me one thing--Or, let me rather say it myself: These poets are
turning everything upside down; nobody dares to grumble. An author might
owe in unsecured debts his twenty thousand--what of it? He is unable to
pay, that is all. What if a business man should act in this manner? What
if he were to obtain wine or clothes on false promises of payment? He
would simply be arrested for fraud and declared bankrupt. But the authors,
the artists, these talented superbeings who suck the country's blood like
vampires to the nation's acclaim--who would dare take such measures with
them? People simply discuss the scandal privately and laugh and think it
infernally smart that a man can owe his twenty thousand--"
Milde put his glass down hard and said:
"My good man, this has gone far enough!"
That splendid fellow Milde seemed all at once to have lost his patience.
While he was sitting alone with the Attorney and the Actor he had found
the miserable Tutor's bitter sarcasms amusing, but no sooner had one of
the Authors appeared than he felt outraged and struck his fist on the
table.
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