My gentleman has hit it there! A party is like a sausage-machine; it grinds all the brains together in one mash; and that’s why we see nothing but porridge-heads and pulp-heads all around!
Mrs. Stockmann.
Now really, Thomas!
Petra.
[To Horster.] If only you hadn’t seen us home, perhaps it would not have come to this.
Horster.
I don’t regret it.
Petra.
[Gives him her hand.] Thank you for that!
Horster.