Passage: We sallied out at three o'clock in the afternoon, having finished our tiffin and coffee. The main job for the day was to mount and frame the photograph. Uncle carried it in his hand delicately, enclosed in an old envelope, as if it were fragile and likely to perish at a finger's pressure. As we went down the street, a neighbour standing at his door hailed us and demanded, 'Where are you taking the young fellow?' He was an engineer who worked in some distant projects on the hills, coming home once in a while and then again disappearing from our society. He was a particular friend of my uncle as they occasionally gathered for a game of cards in my house. He asked, 'I am here for a few days. Can't we have a session some time?' 'Of course, of course,' said my uncle without much fervour, 'I will let you know', and moved on. 'Won't aunt get angry?' I asked, remembering the arguments they had had after every card session. The card players would have been sitting around in the middle of the hall, demanding coffee and edibles, and playing far into the night. My aunt would complain after the company had dispersed, 'Sitting there with your friends, you lock me up in the kitchen all day! What madness seizes you when you touch a pack of cards, I wonder!' Worn out by her attacks, my uncle began to avoid his friends; the company gradually dwindled and disappeared. But it did not prevent him from dreaming about cards or luxuriating in visions of a grand session. Somewhere my uncle was supposed to have lost a lot of money then in the card games, and my aunt was very definite that he would never go near cards again, although he kept saying, 'We play only Twenty-eight, and not Rummy, after all. Twenty-eight...' Why was the aunt angry at the uncle's entertaining friends at home?

1. Because he lost money in card games
2. Because they created a lot of noise
3. Because she had to serve them coffee and snacks repeatedly
4. Both (1) and (3)