ALLMERS. And would you believe it, Asta—? H'm—
ASTA. Well?
ALLMERS. In the midst of all the agony, I found myself speculating what we should have for dinner to-day.
ASTA. [Soothingly.] Well, well, if only it rests you to—
ALLMERS. Yes, just fancy, dear—it seemed as if it did give me rest. [Holds out, his hand to her across the table.] How good it is, Asta, that I have you with me. I am so glad of that. Glad, glad—even in my sorrow.
ASTA. [Looking earnestly at him.] You ought most of all to be glad that you have Rita.
ALLMERS. Yes, of course I should. But Rita is no kin to me—it isn't like having a sister.
ASTA. [Eagerly.] Do you say that, Alfred?
ALLMERS. Yes, our family is a thing apart. [Half jestingly.] We have always had vowels for our initials. Don't you remember how often we used to speak of that? And all our relations—all equally poor. And we have all the same colour of eyes.
ASTA. Do you think I have—?