Yes, there is an odour of mortality about it. It reminds me of a bouquet—the day after the ball. [Clasps her hands behind her head, leans back in her chair and looks at him.] Oh, my dear Judge—you cannot imagine how horribly I shall bore myself here.
Brack.
Why should not you, too, find some sort of vocation in life, Mrs. Hedda?
Hedda.
A vocation—that should attract me?
Brack.
If possible, of course.
Hedda.
Heaven knows what sort of a vocation that could be. I often wonder whether——[Breaking off.] But that would never do either.
Brack.