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THE MAKROPOULOS SECRET dred and fifty million under your nose all the time, almost to have your hands on it. To hear of nothing else all your life. [He stands up] Do you think I shall lose?

I don’t know. Mr. Gregor. Very doubtful case, Sir.

Very well. If I lose, then

You will shoot yourself, Sir? Your deceased father used to talk just the same way.

And he shot himself.

But not because of the case—his debts. When one lives that way—on his prospects—

[Dropping back into the chair]

Oh, be quiet. I beg of you.

Oh, you haven’t nerve enough for a big case. And such beautiful material, too. [He climbs up the ladder and takes out the Gregor papers] Just look at these briefs, Mr. Gregor. Eighteen twenty-seven, the oldest number in our office. Unique, Sir. It ought to be in a museum. And look at the beautiful handwriting of eighteen