HEDDA.
[Involuntarily.] But that's not—
LOVBORG.
[Looks at her.] Not true, you think?
HEDDA.
[Collecting herself.] Oh well, of course—since you say so. But it sounded so improbable—
LOVBORG.
It is true, all the same.
MRS. ELVSTED.
[Wringing her hands.] Oh God—oh God, Hedda—torn his own work to pieces!