Please, you'll find ink and paper there. Come, deary, come! [_He
accompanies him to the door on the left. Exit_ OLDENDORF. BOLZ
_calling after him._] Will you have a cigar? An old Henry Clay?
[_Draws a cigar-case from his pocket._] No? Don't make it too short;
it is to be the principal article! [_He shuts the door, calls through
the door on the right._] The professor is writing the article himself.
See that nobody disturbs him! [_Coming to the front._] So that is
settled.--Adelaide here in town! I'll go straight to her! Stop, keep
cool, keep cool! Old Bolz, you are no longer the brown lad from the
parsonage. And even if you were, _she_ has long since changed. Grass
has grown over the grave of a certain childish inclination. Why are
you suddenly thumping so, my dear soul? Here in town she is just as
far off from you as on her estates. [_Seating himself and playing with
a pencil._] "Nothing like keeping cool," murmured the salamander as he
sat in the stove fire.

_Enter_ KORB.

KORB.

Is Mr. Bolz in?

BOLZ (_jumping up_).

Korb! My dear Korb! Welcome, heartily welcome! It is good of you not
to have forgotten me. [_Shakes hands with him._] I am very glad to see
you.

KORB.