Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 10).djvu/124

 Tesman.

How odd now! I should never have thought of writing anything of that sort.

Hedda

[At the glass door, drumming on the pane.] H'm. I daresay not.

Lövborg.

[Replacing the manuscript in its paper and laying the packet on the table.] I brought it, thinking I might read you a little of it this evening.

Tesman.

That was very good of you, Eilert. But this evening? [Looking at Brack.] I don't quite see how we can manage it

Lövborg.

Well then, some other time. There is no hurry.

Brack.

I must tell you, Mr. Lövborg—there is a little gathering at my house this evening—mainly in honour of Tesman, you know

Lövborg.

[Looking for his hat.] Oh—then I won't detain you

Brack.

No, but listen—will you not do me the favour of joining us?

Lövborg.

[Curtly and decidedly.] No, I can't—thank you very much.