THE STRANGER. No. I'm not a reporter.
THE MAID. What are you, then?
THE STRANGER. I am the representative of the International Ibsen
Society. You know who Ibsen was, of course?
THE MAID. Yes—he was that nasty man who wrote plays about everybody's private affairs.
THE STRANGER. There is that point of view, of course. I'm sorry to intrude—
THE MAID. I should think you would be! Now that she and Lovberg are happily married—
THE STRANGER. That's precisely it. You see, we've just discovered that instead of committing suicide, as Ibsen made them do in the play, they eloped and were eventually married. You can't imagine how delighted we all are to discover that Hedda is still alive. As soon as we found that out, I was sent here immediately—
THE MAID. What did you think you would see?
THE STRANGER. See? I shall see a woman whose soul burns with an unquenchable flame of divine adventurousness. I shall see the most ardent, impatient, eager, restless, impetuous, and insatiably romantic woman in the world.
THE MAID. (pointing to the door) You mean—her?