He left half-finished letters on his writing-table, in which he announced his death to his acquaintances, laying the blame on his wife and mother-in-law; in short, poor Frau Brohl, whose existence had become a veritable hell, with a heavy heart put her hand once more into her pocket, and gave Marker what he wanted.
Everything now went on as smoothly and merrily as before.

After a few weeks Marker again lost everything, and seemed so upset that he stayed away all day without coming home.

At last he appeared again, and hesitatingly, with a timid expression, begged for forgiveness.

"Very well," said Frau Brohl, "only I hope you will not begin all over again." Her hopes were not realized.

The spirit of speculation had too strong a hold over Marker to be kept back.