TEKLA. Well, what do I care? Can't I kiss my own husband, perhaps?
Oh yes, that's my lawful right.
ADOLPH. Yes, but don't you know—in the hotel here, they don't believe we are married, because we are kissing each other such a lot. And it makes no difference that we quarrel now and then, for lovers are said to do that also.
TEKLA. Well, but what's the use of quarrelling? Why can't he always be as nice as he is now? Tell me now? Can't he try? Doesn't he want us to be happy?
ADOLPH. Do I want it? Yes, but—
TEKLA. There we are again! Who has put it into his head that he is not to paint any longer?
ADOLPH. Who? You are always looking for somebody else behind me and my thoughts. Are you jealous?
TEKLA. Yes, I am. I'm afraid somebody might take him away from me.
ADOLPH. Are you really afraid of that? You who know that no other woman can take your place, and that I cannot live without you!
TEKLA. Well, I am not afraid of the women—it's your friends that fill your head with all sorts of notions.
ADOLPH. [Watching her] You are afraid then? Of what are you afraid?