HEDDA.
Not the worst?
LOVBORG.
Suppose now, Hedda, that a man—in the small hours of the morning—came home to his child's mother after a night of riot and debauchery, and said: "Listen—I have been here and there—in this place and in that. And I have taken our child with—to this place and to that. And I have lost the child—utterly lost it. The devil knows into what hands it may have fallen—who may have had their clutches on it."
HEDDA.
Well—but when all is said and done, you know—this was only a book—
LOVBORG.
Thea's pure soul was in that book.
HEDDA.
Yes, so I understand.