"Rehnhjelm? A very good name! I think I've heard it before. But didn't you tell me you were going to float a Dorcas Society as well?"
"Found a Dorcas Society! Oh, yes, and what d'you think? Pastor Skore is coming one evening to read a paper."
"Pastor Skore is an excellent preacher and moves in good society. I'm glad that you're keeping away from the lower classes. There's nothing so fatal to man or woman as to form low connexions. My father always said that; it was one of his strictest principles."
Mrs. Falk picked up the bread-crumbs from the tablecloth and dropped them into her empty cup. Mr. Falk put his fingers into his waistcoat pocket and brought out a tooth-pick with which he removed some tiny atoms of coffee grounds lodged between his teeth.
Husband and wife felt self-conscious in each other's company. Each guessed the thoughts of the other, and both realized that the first who broke the silence would say something foolish and compromising. They cast about for fresh subjects of conversation, mentally examined them and found them unsuitable; every one of them had some connexion with what had been said, or could be brought into connexion with it. Falk would have liked to have reason for finding fault with the breakfast, so as to have an excuse for expressing indignation; Mrs. Falk looked out of the window, feebly hoping that there might be a change in the weather—in vain.
A maid-servant entered and saved the situation by offering them a tray with the newspapers, at the same time announcing Mr. Levin.
"Ask him to wait," said the master curtly.
For a few moments his boots squeaked up and down the room, preparing the visitor who was waiting in the corridor for his arrival.
The trembling Levin, greatly impressed by the newly invented waiting in the corridor, was ultimately conducted into the master's private room, where he was received like a petitioner.
"Have you brought the bill of exchange with you?" asked Falk.