“Well perhaps you’re right,” said Hippolyte, musing. “They might say⁠—yet, devil take them! what does it matter?⁠—prince, what can it matter what people will say of us then , eh? I believe I’m half asleep. I’ve had such a dreadful dream⁠—I’ve only just remembered it. Prince, I don’t wish you such dreams as that, though sure enough, perhaps, I don’t love you. Why wish a man evil, though you do not love him, eh? Give me your hand⁠—let me press it sincerely. There⁠—you’ve given me your hand⁠—you must feel that I do press it sincerely, don’t you? I don’t think I shall drink any more. What time is it? Never mind, I know the time. The time has come, at all events. What! they are laying supper over there, are they? Then this table is free? Capital, gentlemen! I⁠—hem! these gentlemen are not listening. Prince, I will just read over an article I have here. Supper is more interesting, of course, but⁠—”