Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 10).djvu/151

 Mrs. Elvsted.

Have you not the power?

Hedda.

I have not—and have never had it.

Mrs. Elvsted.

Not your husband's?

Hedda.

Do you think that is worth the trouble? Oh, if you could only understand how poor I am. And fate has made you so rich! [Clasps her passionately in her arms.] I think I must burn your hair off, after all.

Mrs. Elvsted.

Let me go! Let me go! I am afraid of you, Hedda!

Berta.

[In the middle doorway.] Tea is laid in the dining-room, ma'am.

Hedda.

Very well. We are coming.

Mrs. Elvsted.

No, no, no! I would rather go home alone! At once!

Hedda.

Nonsense! First you shall have a cup of tea, you little stupid. And then—at ten o'clock—Eilert Lövborg will be here—with vine-leaves in his hair.

[She drags Mrs. Elvsted almost by force towards the middle doorway.