“WE WOULDN’T BE IN THIS unacceptable situation,” declares the younger and taller of the two men in the small club room, “if you hadn’t forced her to go to the boarding school!”

He has striking features and is so thin that he appears almost skinny. He paces back and forth in the room in his shiny black boots, black trousers, and black evening tailcoat, resembling a black heron.

“My dear brother.” Settled into a deep armchair upholstered with goatskin, the older, more stout man raises his eyebrows, which look like snow-covered bushes. “This bitter mood does not suit your character at all.” He speaks calmly, because this is his club, specifically the particularly secure private conversation room, and he is eagerly awaiting an excellent roast beef for dinner as he says to his younger brother in a kindly manner:

“Undoubtedly, the foolish girl is all alone in this city that bubbles like a cauldron, and she may already have fallen victim to robbery and had everything taken from her or, even worse, her virtue may have been stolen—but even so, you must not allow yourself to become emotionally involved with the problem.” “How can I not be involved?” The man pacing back and forth turns abruptly and fixes him with his hawk-like gaze. “She is our sister!”