It is I—Stensgård. May I come in?
Madam Rundholmen.
No, indeed you mustn’t! No! I’m not dress’d.
Stensgård.
What? Are you so late to-day?
Madam Rundholmen.
Oh, I can tell you I’ve been up since all hours; but one must look a little decent, you know. [Peeps out, with a kerchief over her head.] Well, what is it? No, you really mustn’t look at me, Mr. Stensgård.—Oh, there’s some one else!
[Disappears, slamming the door to.
Aslaksen.
[Enters from the back with a bundle of papers.] Good morning, Mr. Stensgård.