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A Third Gentleman.
I hear the coffee and maraschino are to be served in the music-room.
The Flabby Gentleman.
Bravo! Then perhaps Mrs. Sörby will play us something.
The Thin-haired Gentleman.
[In a low voice.] I hope Mrs. Sörby mayn't play us a tune we don't like, one of these days!
The Flabby Gentleman.
Oh no, not she! Bertha will never turn against her old friends.
[They laugh and pass into the inner room.
Werle.
[In a low voice, dejectedly.] I don't think anybody noticed it, Gregers.
Gregers.
[Looks at him.] Noticed what?
Werle.
Did you not notice it either?
Gregers.
What do you mean?
Werle.
We were thirteen at table.
Gregers.
Indeed? Were there thirteen of us?
