Hedda (excitedly). General GABLER'S pistols! I might have known it! Did they ever shoot straight? Where was he hit, then?
Brack (in a discreet undertone). A little lower down!
Hedda. Oh, how disgusting!—how vulgar!—how ridiculous!—like everything else about me!
Brack. Yes, we're realistic types of human nature, and all that—but a trifle squalid, perhaps. And why did you give LÖVBORG your pistol, when it was certain to be traced by the police? For a charming cold-blooded woman with a clear head and no scruples, wasn't it just a leetle foolish?
Hedda. Perhaps; but I wanted him to do it beautifully, and he didn't! Oh, I've just admitted that I did give him the pistol—how annoyingly unwise of me! Now I'm in your power, I suppose?
Brack. Precisely—for some reason it's not easy to understand. But it's inevitable, and you know how you dread anything approaching scandal. All your past proceedings show that. (To GEORGE and Mrs. E., who come in together from the back-room.) Well, how are you getting on with the reconstruction of poor LÖVBORG'S great work, eh?
George. Capitally; we've made out the first two parts already. And really, HEDDA, I do believe Mrs. ELVSTED is inspiring me; I begin to feel it coming on. Fancy that!
Mrs. E. Yes, goodness! HEDDA, won't it be lovely if I can. I mean to try so hard!
Hedda. Do, you dear little silly rabbit; and while you are trying I will go into the back drawing-room and lie down.