Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 10).djvu/164

 Hedda.

Indeed! They must have taken him home then.

Tesman.

Yes, so it would appear. And Brack, too, left us.

Hedda.

And what have you been doing with yourself since?

Tesman.

Well, I and some of the others went home with one of the party, a jolly fellow, and took our morning coffee with him; or perhaps I should rather call it our night coffee—eh? But now, when I have rested a little, and given Eilert, poor fellow, time to have his sleep out, I must take this back to him.

Hedda.

[Holds out her hand for the packet.] No—don't give it to him! Not in such a hurry, I mean. Let me read it first.

Tesman.

No, my dearest Hedda, I mustn't, I really mustn't.

Hedda.

You must not?

Tesman.

No—for you can imagine what a state of despair he will be in when he wakens and misses the manuscript. He has no copy of it, you must know! He told me so.

Hedda.

[Looking searchingly at him.] Can such a thing not be reproduced? Written over again?