OLD BAUMERT enters, somewhat shaky on the legs, a newly killed cock under his arm.
OLD BAUMERT
[Stretching out his arms.] My brothers—we're all brothers! Come to my arms, brothers!
[Laughter.
OLD HILSE
And that's the state you're in, Willem?
OLD BAUMERT
Gustav, is it you? My poor starvin' friend. Come to my arms, Gustav!
OLD HILSE
[Mutters.] Let me alone.