MR. Y. You were too cowardly--just as you were too cowardly to
tell your wife that she had married a murderer.

MR. X. You are a different man from what I took you to be--if
stronger or weaker, I cannot tell--if more criminal or less,
that's none of my concern--but decidedly more stupid; that much is
quite plain. For stupid you were when you wrote another person's
name instead of begging--as I have had to do. Stupid you were when
you stole things out of my book--could you not guess that I might
have read my own books? Stupid you were when you thought yourself
cleverer than me, and when you thought that I could be lured into
becoming a thief. Stupid you were when you thought balance could
be restored by giving the world two thieves instead of one. But
most stupid of all you were when you thought I had failed to
provide a safe corner-stone for my happiness. Go ahead and write
my wife as many anonymous letters as you please about her husband
having killed a man--she knew that long before we were married!--
Have you had enough now?

MR. Y. May I go?

MR. X. Now you _have_ to go! And at once! I'll send your things
after you!--Get out of here!

(Curtain.)