Nonsense! First you shall have a cup of tea, you little stupid. And then—at ten o’clock—Eilert Lövborg will be here—with vine-leaves in his hair.
[She drags Mrs. Elvsted almost by force towards the middle doorway.
ACT THIRD.
The room at the Tesmans’. The curtains are drawn over the middle doorway, and also over the glass door. The lamp, half turned down, and with a shade over it, is burning on the table. In the stove, the door of which stands open, there has been a fire, which is now nearly burnt out.
Mrs. Elvsted, wrapped in a large shawl, and with her feet upon a foot-rest, sits close to the stove, sunk back in the arm-chair. Hedda, fully dressed, lies sleeping upon the sofa, with a sofa-blanket over her.
Mrs. Elvsted.
[After a pause, suddenly sits up in her chair, and listens eagerly. Then she sinks back again wearily, moaning to herself.] Not yet!—Oh God—oh God—not yet!
Berta slips cautiously in by the hall door. She has a letter in her hand.
Mrs. Elvsted.
[Turns and whispers eagerly.] Well—has any one come?