ASTA. [With decision, snatches her hand away.] No. I cannot. [Turning.] Mr. Borgheim—what time does the steamer start?
BORGHEIM. Now—at once.
ASTA. Then I must go on board. Will you go with me?
BORGHEIM. [With a suppressed outburst of joy.] Will I? Yes, yes!
ASTA. Then come!
RITA. [Slowly.] Ah! That is how it is. Well, then, you cannot stay with us.
ASTA. [Throwing her arms round her neck.] Thanks for everything, Rita! (Goes up to ALLMERS and grasps his hand.) Alfred-good-bye! A thousand times, good-bye!
ALLMERS. [Softly and eagerly.] What is this, Asta? It seems as though you were taking flight.
ASTA. [In subdued anguish.] Yes, Alfred—I am taking flight.
ALLMERS. Flight—from me!