Mathilde (getting up). Yes, all sorts of things happen in a year that one never thought of at the beginning of it.
Axel (sitting down). Good God, what a year! I haven't the courage to face another like it. This book has frightened me.
Mathilde (aside). That's a good thing, anyway.
Axel (getting up). Besides—the amount of work I have to do, to keep up everything here just as she was accustomed to have it, is getting to be too much for me, Mathilde. It won't answer in the long run. If only I had the reward of thanks that the humblest working-man gets-if it were only a smile; but when I have been travelling about for a week at a time, exposed to all sorts of weather in these open boats in winter, do I get any welcome on my home-coming? When I sit up late, night after night, does she ever realise whom I am doing it for? Has she as much as noticed that I have done so—or that I have, at great expense, furnished this house like her parents'? No, she takes everything as a matter of course; and if any one were to say to her, "He has done all this for your sake," she would merely answer, "He need not have done so, I had it all in my own home."
Mathilde. Yes, you have come to a turning-point now.
Axel. What do you mean?
Mathilde. Nothing particular—here she comes!
Axel. Has anything happened? She is in such a hurry!
[LAURA comes in with an open letter in her hand.]
Laura (in a low voice, to MATHILDE). Mother and father are so lonely at home that they are going abroad, to Italy; but they are coming here, Mathilde, before they leave the country.