Do you think that is worth the trouble? Oh, if you could only understand how poor I am. And fate has made you so rich! [Clasps her passionately in her arms.] I think I must burn your hair off, after all.
Mrs. Elvsted.
Let me go! Let me go! I am afraid of you, Hedda!
Berta.
[In the middle doorway.] Tea is laid in the dining-room, ma’am.
Hedda.
Very well. We are coming.
Mrs. Elvsted.
No, no, no! I would rather go home alone! At once!
Hedda.