Hedda.
[Looking at Tesman with a cold smile.] You stand there looking as if you were thunderstruck——
Tesman.
Yes—so I am—I almost think——
Brack.
Don’t you see, Mrs. Tesman, a thunderstorm has just passed over?
Hedda.
[Pointing towards the inner room.] Will you not take a glass of cold punch, gentlemen?
Brack.
[Looking at his watch.] A stirrup-cup? Yes, it wouldn’t come amiss.