Hedda.
[With cold eyes.] General Gabler's pistols—same which I shot—[recollecting herself]—no, that's Thackeray, not Ibsen—a very different person.
[She goes through the back drawing-room.
George.
[At doorway, shouting after her.] Dearest Hedda, not those dangerous things, eh? Why, they have never once been known to shoot straight yet! Don't! Have a catapult. For my sake, have a catapult!
[Curtain.
ACT SECOND
Scene—The cheerful dark drawing-room. It is afternoon. Hedda stands loading a revolver in the back drawing-room.
Hedda.