Hedda.
[At the glass door, drumming on the pane.] H’m——. I daresay not.
Lövborg.
[Replacing the manuscript in its paper and laying the packet on the table.] I brought it, thinking I might read you a little of it this evening.
Tesman.
That was very good of you, Eilert. But this evening——? [Looking at Brack.] I don’t quite see how we can manage it——
Lövborg.
Well then, some other time. There is no hurry.
Brack.
I must tell you, Mr. Lövborg—there is a little gathering at my house this evening—mainly in honour of Tesman, you know——