Hedvig.
[Throwing her arms round him.] And we love you, oh so dearly, father!
Hialmar.
And if I am unreasonable once in a while,—why then—you must remember that I am a man beset by a host of cares. There, there! [Dries his eyes.] No beer at such a moment as this. Give me the flute.
[Hedvig runs to the bookcase and fetches it.
Hialmar.
Thanks! That’s right. With my flute in my hand and you two at my side—ah——!
[Hedvig seats herself at the table near Gina: Hialmar paces backwards and forwards, pipes up vigorously, and plays a Bohemian peasant dance, but in a slow plaintive tempo, and with sentimental expression.
Hialmar.
[Breaking off the melody, holds out his left hand to Gina, and says with emotion:] Our roof may be poor and humble, Gina; but it is home. And with all my heart I say: here dwells my happiness.