[Fussily pulls out the table-drawer.] I must have my books with me. Where are my books?
Gina.
Which books?
Hialmar.
My scientific books, of course; the technical magazines I require for my invention.
Gina.
[Searches in the bookcase.] Is it these here paper-covered ones?
Hialmar.
Yes, of course.
Gina.