Hialmar.
[By the stove, stops her, looks at her, puts his arm round her neck and presses her to him.] Hedvig, Hedvig!
Hedvig.
[With tears of joy.] My dear, kind father!
Hialmar.
No, don’t call me that. Here have I been feasting at the rich man’s table,—battening at the groaning board——! And I couldn’t even——!
Gina.
[Sitting at the table.] Oh nonsense, nonsense, Ekdal.
Hialmar.
It’s not nonsense! And yet you mustn’t be too hard upon me. You know that I love you for all that.