Hedvig (involuntarily). Oh! not that!
Gregers. Yes, a real uncommonly clever dog; such a one as can dive under after wild ducks, when they go to the bottom, and get fast in all the tangle and sea-weeds down in the mud below.
Hjalmar. I’ll tell you what, Gregers—I don’t understand a word of all this.
Gregers. Oh, no! It doesn’t mean anything in particular. Early to-morrow, then, I’ll move in. (To Gina.) Don’t you trouble about me; I do everything for myself. (To Hjalmar.) We’ll talk over the rest to-morrow. Good night, Mrs. Ekdal. (Nodding to Hedvig.) Good night!
Gina. Good night, Mr. Werle.
Hedvig. Good night.
Hjalmar (who has lighted a candle). Wait a moment, I must light you down, for it’s very dark on the stairs.
Gregers and Hjalmar go out together through the entrance-door.
Gina (looking straight in front of her, with her work on her lap). Wasn’t that strange talk about his wanting to be a dog?
Hedvig. I’ll tell you what, mother—I think he meant something else by that.