Hjalmar (taking the letter from her). You Gina—can you understand this?
Gina. Why, I don’t know anything on earth about it—just tell us.
Hjalmar. Mr. Werle writes to Hedvig that her old grandfather need no longer trouble himself with copying, but that for the future he’s to draw a hundred crowns a month at the office.
Gregers. Aha!
Hedvig. A hundred crowns, mother! I read that.
Gina. That’ll come in very well for grandfather.
Hjalmar. ——A hundred crowns as long as he may need it—that means, of course, until he has closed his eyes in death.
Gina. Well, then he’s provided for, poor old fellow.
Hjalmar. But there’s more follows. You didn’t read this, Hedvig. Afterwards it’s to revert to you.
Hedvig. To me! All of it?