Gina (sitting by the table). Oh, nonsense, nonsense, Ekdal.
Hjalmar. Yes! But you must not be too hard upon me. You know that I am very fond of you, all the same.
Hedvig (embracing him). And we are so immensely fond of you!
Hjalmar. And if now and again I should be unreasonable, bear in mind I am a man overwhelmed by a host of worries. No! (Drying his eyes.) No beer at such a moment! Give me the flute.
Hedvig runs to the book case and fetches it.
Hjalmar. Thanks. Now then. With the flute in my hand, and you two about me—ah!
Hedvig (sits down at the table near Gina; Hjalmar walks up and down. Then he begins playing energetically a Bohemian folk-dance, but in slow, elegiac time, and with sentimental expression. He stops playing suddenly, holds out his left hand to Gina, and says in a moved tone). It may be poor and lowly under this roof, Gina, but it is home. But I tell you this—it is good to be here.
He begins playing again; presently a knock is heard at the entrance-door.
Gina (rising). Hush, Ekdal!—I think someone’s there.
Hjalmar (putting the flute into the book case). There again!