[They go out together.
Spreta (looks after them). What a pity it is that Mopsa can't take more to that Mr. Blochdrähn, isn't it, Alfred?
[Looks searchingly at him.
Alfred (wriggles). Oh—er—I don't know. For then we should see so much less of her.
Spreta (vehemently). Oh, come! So much the better! (Clutching him round the neck.) I want you all to myself, Alfred. I love you so much I could throttle you. I've a good mind to, as it is!
Alfred (choking). You are! My loyal, proud, true-hearted Spreta, d-don't!
[Gently releases himself.
Spreta. You have ceased to care for me. Don't deny it, Alfred!
[Bursts into convulsive weeping.
Alfred. I will frankly admit that, like most married Norwegians, I am—h'm—subject to the Law of Change.