Keep quiet—quiet. Eyolf is down in the garden, playing.
Asta.
No, he wasn’t in the garden.—
Rita.
[With upstretched arms.] Oh, if only it isn’t he!
Borgheim.
[Listens, and calls down.] Whose child is it, do you say?
[Indistinct voices are heard. Borgheim and Asta utter a suppressed cry, and rush out through the garden.
Allmers.
[In an agony of dread.] It isn’t Eyolf! It isn’t Eyolf, Rita!