MASTER. If you catch sight of my brother, ask him to come in and keep me company.
STARCK. So I will—so I will! [He goes.
MASTER. [Alone; moves a couple of pieces on the chess-board; then gets up and begins to walk about] The peace of old age—yes! [He sits down at the piano and strikes a few chords; then he gets up and walks about as before] Louise! Can't you let the laundry wait a little?
LOUISE. [Appears again for a moment in the doorway at the left] No, I can't, because the wash-woman is in a hurry—she has husband and children waiting for her.
MASTER. Oh! [He sits down at the table and begins to drum with his fingers on it; tries to read the newspaper, but tires of it; lights matches only to blow them out again at once; looks repeatedly at the big clock, until at last a noise is heard from the hallway] Is that you, Carl Frederick?
THE MAIL-CARRIER. [Appears in the doorway] It's the mail. Excuse me for walking right in, but the door was standing open.
MASTER. Is there a letter for me?
THE MAIL-CARRIER. Only a post-card.
[He hands it over and goes out.
MASTER. [Reading the post-card] Mr. Fischer again! Boston club! That's the man up above—with the white hands and the tuxedo coat. And to me! The impertinence of it! I have got to move!—Fischer!—[He tears up the card; again a noise is heard, in the hallway] Is that you, Carl Frederick?