e, you, and I make nine. We must have twelve.

Hamar. What about some ladies?

Tjaelde. No; ladies are out of place at a business dinner. They may do
the honours afterwards, when we have got to the cigarette stage. But
whom shall we--?

Hamar. That new lawyer fellow? He's a smart chap--I can't remember his
name?

Tjaelde. No, he always wants to be speechifying wherever he goes.--Ah,
Mr. Pram, the custom-house officer!

Hamar. That man? He always gets drunk!

Tjaelde. Yes, but he doesn't get noisy with it. He does no harm--quite
the contrary! Yes, put down Pram.

Hamar. Mr. Pram.

Tjaelde. It is a very difficult task, in such a small town, when you
want to get a good set of people together. Ah!--Falbe! I forgot him. He
is very neat, and no opinions.

Hamar. Neat in his dress, do you mean?

Tjaelde. Yes, in his dress too-but I meant it more generally. Now, for
the twelfth--Morten Schultz?

Hamar. Morten Schultz! (Gets up.) No, really, I must take the liberty of
protesting against him! Do you really know what he did the last time he
was here, when you had a lot of guests? In the middle of dinner he took
out his false teeth and began showing them to his neighbours. He wanted
to have them passed round the table! If that is your idea of a good set
of people--well!

Tjaelde. Yes, he is rather a rough diamond. But he is the richest man
about here.

Hamar (who has sat down again). Well in that case he really ought to
afford himself a new wig! It is far from pleasant to sit beside him, I
can assure you!

Tjaelde. Yes, I know he is a pig; but he is wide awake, and this would
flatter him! You see, my young friend, when a man is very rich you must
make certain allowances for him.

Hamar. I can't understand what _you_ can hope to get out of him.

Tjaelde. Hm, hm!--No, well, perhaps we had better leave him out?

Hamar. Certainly!

Tjaelde (to himself). Although Lind would understand the significance of
Morten Schultz's being here--

Hamar. And the things he says! Ladies have to leave the room!

Tjaelde. Yes, you are right. (Mutters to himself.) And, after all, I
don't need him any longer. (Aloud.) But what about our twelfth, then?
Let me see--.

Hamar. Christopher Hansen?

Tjaelde. Oh, Lord! no. We should have to talk politics. No, let
me see--. Yes, I think I might risk it! Hm, hm--yes, just the man!
Jakobsen, the brewery manager.

Hamar. Jakobsen?

Tjaelde. Hm, hm! Jakobsen will do very well. I know