Yes—so I am—I almost think—
BRACK.
Don't you see, Mrs. Tesman, a thunderstorm has just passed over?
HEDDA.
[Pointing towards the room.] Will you not take a glass of cold punch, gentlemen?
BRACK.
[Looking at his watch.] A stirrup-cup? Yes, it wouldn't come amiss.
TESMAN.
A capital idea, Hedda! Just the thing! Now that the weight has been taken off my mind—
HEDDA.