X. No, my disinclination to steal is just as irresistible as
the inclination to do so is irresistible with some people. So it
cannot be called a merit. I cannot do it, and the other one cannot
refrain!--But you understand, of course, that I am not without a
desire to own this gold. Why don't I take it then? Because I
cannot! It's an inability--and the lack of something cannot be
called a merit. There!
[Closes the box with a slam. Stray clouds have cast their shadows
on the landscape and darkened the room now and then. Now it grows
quite dark as when a thunderstorm is approaching.]
MR. X. How close the air is! I guess the storm is coming all
right.
[MR. Y. gets up and shuts the door and all the windows.]
MR. X. Are you afraid of thunder?
MR. Y. It's just as well to be careful.
(They resume their seats at the table.)
MR. X. You're a curious chap! Here you come dropping down like a
bomb a fortnight ago, introducing yourself as a Swedish-American
who is collecting flies for a small museum---
MR. Y. Oh, never mind me now!
MR. X. That's what you always say when I grow tired of talking
about myself and want to turn my attention to you.
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