You vindictive brute!

John. You can have a look at the paper, sir, if you like.

Evje. Have _you_ got a copy?

John. Yes, sir, the first copy struck off is always sent to the Editor,
so I volunteered to bring it to him. But you must be anxious to see it,
sir! (Holds it out to EVJE.)

Evje (snatching it from him). Give it to me! Let me see--. (Moves
towards his door, but stops.) No, my wife mustn't--. Here, under the
gas-lamp! This filthy fog! I can't--. (Feels in his pocket for his
glasses, and pasts them on.) Ah, that's better! (Holds the paper under
the light.) What a mischance! The blackguard--! Where is the article,
then? Oh, here--I can't see properly, my heart is beating so!

John. Shall I run for the doctor, sir?

Evje. Will you go away, you--! (Holds the paper first up, and then down,
in his attempts to see better.) Ah, here it is! "The Stock Exchange
Committee"--oh! (Lowers the paper.)

John (mimicking him). Oh!

Evje (trying to read). What a vile thing to do!

John. Oh, go on! go on!

Evje (as he reads). This beats everything I ever--Oh!

John. Oh! We _are_ in a bad way!

Evje (wiping his forehead). What a different thing it is to read
libellous attacks on others--and on one's self! (Goes on reading.) Oh!
Oh! What horrible, revolting rascality! What is it he says here? I must
read through it again! Oh, oh!

John. And often of a morning, when you have been reading the paper, I
have heard you laughing till the bed shook under you!

Evje. Yes, I who have so often laughed at others! (Reads.) No, this is
beyond belief! I can't read any more! This will ruin my position in the
town; I can hear every one laughing at me--he knows all my weaknesses,
and has managed to make it all so hideously ludicrous! (Tries to go on
reading.) Why, here is some more! (Reads.) It begins even worse than the
other! (Lowers the paper, panting, then tries to go on reading.) No, I
can't--I can't! I must wait! Everything seems going round and round--and
my heart is beating so violently that I know I shall have one of my
attacks! What a devil it is that I have been making a friend of! What a
creature to have broken bread with!--an unprincipled scoundrel! And the
disgrace of it!--the disgrace! What will they say at the Exchange? What
will--? I shall not dare to go out of my house, at least for some weeks!
And then people will only say I have taken to my bed! Oh, oh! I feel as
if it were the end of everything!

John (solici