Rita.
[Looking bitterly at him.] No, that is true. [Laughs harshly.] "There stood the champagne, but you tasted it not"—as the poet says.
[She rises from the armchair, goes with an air of weariness over to the sofa, and seats herself, half reclining, upon it.
Allmers.
[Crosses the room and stands before her.] I was so taken up with serious thoughts. I had made up my mind to talk to you of our future, Rita—and first and foremost of Eyolf.
Rita.
[Smiling.] And so you did——
Allmers.
No, I had not time to—for you began to undress.
Rita.