ABEL. I don't know! But I am to be pitied. And this hate, this terrible hate! Perhaps that would disappear if you men were not so afraid to love us, if you were not so—how shall I express it—so moral, as it's called.
AXEL. But in heaven's name, be a little more lovable, then, and don't get yourselves up so that one is forced to think of the penal law whenever one looks at you.
ABEL. Do you think I'm such a fright, then?
AXEL. Well, you know, you must pardon me, but you are awful. [Bertha comes in.]
BERTHA [To Axel]. Are you going?
AXEL. Yes, I was just about to go, but now I'll stay.
BERTHA [Softly]. What? You—
AXEL. I shall stay in my home.
BERTHA. In our—home.
AXEL. No, in mine. In my studio with my furniture.