KLEINMICHEL.  They seem respectable gentlemen; I think I have seen one of them before.

PIEPENBRINK (decisively).  Respectable or not, they are in our way.

KLEINMICHEL.  Yes, to be sure, so they are.

BOLZ (seating himself with KAeMPE).  Here, my friend, we can sit quietly before a bottle of red wine.  I hardly dare to pour it out, for the wine at such restaurants is nearly always abominable.  What sort of stuff do you suppose this will be?

PIEPENBRINK (irritated).  Indeed?  Just listen to that!

KAeMPE.  Let’s try it.

[Pours out; in a low voice.]

There is a double P. on the seal; that might mean Piepenbrink.

PIEPENBRINK.  Well, I am curious to know what these greenhorns will have to say against the wine.

MRS. PIEPENBRINK.  Be quiet, Philip, they can hear you over there.

BOLZ (in a low tone).  I’m sure you are right.  The restaurant takes its wine from him.  That’s his very reason for coming.

PIEPENBRINK.  They don’t seem to be thirsty; they are not drinking.

BOLZ (tastes it; aloud).  Not bad!

PIEPENBRINK (ironically).  Indeed?

BOLZ (takes another sip).  A good, pure wine.

PIEPENBRINK (relieved).  The fellow’s judgment is not so bad.

BOLZ.  But it does not compare with a similar wine that I recently drank at a friend’s house.

PIEPENBRINK.  Indeed?

BOLZ.  I learned then that there is only one man in town from whom a sensible wine-drinker should take his red wine.

KAeMPE.  And that is?

PIEPENBRINK (ironically).  I really should like to know.

BOLZ.  It’s a certain Piepenbrink.

PIEPENBRINK (nodding his head contentedly).  Good!

KAeMPE.  Yes, it is well known to be a very reliable firm.

PIEPENBRINK.  They don’t know that their own wine, too, is from my cellars.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!

BOLZ (turning to him).  Are you laughing at us, Sir?

PIEPENBRINK.  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!  No offense.  I merely heard you talking about the wine.  So you like Piepenbrink’s wine better than this here?  Ha!  Ha!  Ha!

BOLZ (slightly indignant).  Sir, I must request you to find my expressions less comical.  I do not know Mr. Piepenbrink, but I have the pleasure of knowing his wine; and so I repeat the assertion that Piepenbrink has better wine in his cellar than this here.  What do you find to laugh at in that?  You do not know Piepenbrink’s wines and have no right to judge of them.

PIEPENBRINK.  I do not know Piepenbrink’s wines, I do not know Philip Piepenbrink either, I never saw his wife—­do you hear that, Lottie?—­And when his daughter Bertha meets me I ask, “Who is that little black-head?” That is a funny story.  Isn’t it, Kleinmichel?

KLEINMICHEL.  It is very funny! [Laughs.]