Werle. Mrs. Sorby can always find a loophole when she wants. Help yourselves to glasses, gentlemen! Pettersen, see to it! Gregers, I think we’ll take a glass together. (Gregers does not move.) Won’t you make one of us, Ekdal? I found no opportunity of drinking with you at table.
The book-keeper, Graberg, looks in through the baize door.
Graberg. Beg pardon, sir, but I can’t get out.
Werle. Why, have you got locked in again?
Graberg. Yes, and Flagsted has gone off with the keys.
Werle. Well, you can pass through here, then.
Graberg. But there’s someone else.
Werle. Come on, come on, both of you. Don’t mind us.
Graberg and old Ekdal come out from the office.
Werle (involuntarily). Ah! Phew!