Poor child! And how does she take it?
Hialmar.
Oh, you can imagine we haven’t the heart to tell her of it. She dreams of no danger. Gay and careless and chirping like a little bird, she flutters onward into a life of endless night. [Overcome.] Oh, it is cruelly hard on me, Gregers.
[Hedvig brings a tray with beer and glasses, which she sets upon the table.
Hialmar.
[Stroking her hair.] Thanks, thanks, Hedvig.
[Hedvig puts her arm round his neck and whispers in his ear.
Hialmar.
No, no bread and butter just now. [Looks up.] But perhaps you would like some, Gregers.
Gregers.