From the left to the right, a man with an umbrella runs up the street - counter to the direction of the carriage. One of the occupants, who leaves the carriage, stands in the rain and speaks to the other passengers while avoiding their gaze. He is on the eve of a duel - scheduled for only three hours later. A bell chimes twice, indicating that it is 2 am. I have no intention of keeping.
Honor is a luxury only gentlemen can afford.
Lacking a sense of duty and sacrifice, he plans to avoid the duel and hurriedly flee town in an hour in a cab by exiting through the back entrance of his apartment. Serving as a delivery intermediary in the hallway, John touches Stefan's arm to interrupt his departure and get his attention. He tosses the thick envelope onto his desk, pinches the corners of his tired eyes, picks up the envelope, walks to the bathroom, opens the envelope and unfolds the many pages of the letter, and splashes water on his face from a small washbowl. He proceeds into his study where he places the letter on a desk, lights a small lamp, and then leans over to read it. I have so much to tell you and perhaps very little time.