Page:Poet Lore, volume 35, 1924.pdf/393

 style, lying all in a heap! Do not be angry, doctor! (Drawing the notes from his breast-pocket.) Here for example you will probably have need of them on the way  pray accptaccept [sic] from me, as a memento of your former magnificence, this  (with sarcastic emphasis)  this old junk!

Dr. Svoboda—I will kill you!

Neufeld (Drawing a revolver from his hip-pocket)—I am prepared even for that!

Dr. Svoboda (Leaping upon him, snatches the weapon, flinging it upon the floor.)—I will strangle you, you dog! With these two hands I will strangle you!

Neufeld—Help! Help! (Runs quickly away. . appears from the left.)

Anezka—Who was calling for help! Father!

Dr. Svoboda—Anezka hold me  or I will go after that cur and kill him!

Anezka—For Heaven’s sake, father! Remember where we are!

Dr. Svoboda (Staggering into a chair)—Do not be afraid.

Anezka—Mamma has left—Filipina and Jaroslav with her, and you father—

Dr. Svoboda (Calmly again)—And you, my daughter, you stayed behind?

Anezka—And will continue to stay.

Dr. Svoboda—On my account?

Anezka—On your account.

Dr. Svoboda—And I am a beggar,—and you would become my companion—you would fetter yourself to me—

Anezka—There are happier days coming. Jiri has written that he will ask you and mother for my hand—we will all live together.

Dr. Svoboda—He has already spoken tome. Yesterday, after the election, when I told him that I have lost everything, that I am now a beggar—I never in my life heard a manlier answer than he gave me. I only want your daughter, he said: and if she will be satisfied with the humble little nest that a journalist can offer he, than let her marry me—in a month, tomorrow,—or perhaps even today.