Ekdal.
Yes, yes, I do. Don’t you trouble. [Goes out.
Gina.
He’s not poking away at the fire, is he? [Waits a moment.] Hedvig, go and see what he’s about.
[Ekdal comes in again with a small jug of steaming hot water.
Hedvig.
Have you been getting some hot water, grandfather?
Ekdal.
Yes, hot water. Want it for something. Want to write, and the ink has got as thick as porridge.—h’m.
Gina.