Svava. "I am full of remorse. Your cough frightens me; and now, when you are expecting—" But what in the world has this to do with me?
Hoff (after a moment's thought). What do you suppose?
Svava. Is it some one you want me to help?
Hoff. No, poor soul, she doesn't need help any more. She is dead.
Svava. Dead? Was she your wife?
Hoff. That's it. She was my wife. I found these and come other things in a little box. At the bottom were these notes—there are more of them—and some cotton wool on the top of them. On the top of that lay some earrings and things that had been her mother's. And also (producing some bracelets) these bracelets. They are certainly much too costly to have been her mother's.
Svava. I suppose she died suddenly, as she did not—
Hoff. I cannot say. Consumptives never think they are going to die. Anyway she was very delicate and weak.—May I sit down?
Svava. Please do. Are there any children?
Hoff (after a moment's thought). I believe not.