[Lightly.] Oh, you know you always find something or other in such old papers. [Speaking lower and seriously.] It is the letters to mother that are in this portfolio.
Allmers.
Those, of course, you must keep yourself.
Asta.
[With an effort.] No; I am determined that you shall look through them, too, Alfred. Some time—later on in life. I haven’t the key of the portfolio with me just now.
Allmers.
It doesn’t matter, my dear Asta, for I shall never read your mother’s letters in any case.
Asta.
[Fixing her eyes on him.] Then some time or other—some quiet evening—I will tell you a little of what is in them.
Allmers.