Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/309

 half of the sliding door. The morning sun is shining in through the skylights; some doves are flying about; others sit cooing, upon the perches; the hens are heard clucking now and then, further back in the garret.

Hialmar. There; now you can get to work, father.

Ekdal. [Goes in.] Aren't you coming too?

Hialmar.

Well really, do you know; I almost think [Sees Gina at the kitchen door.] I? No; I haven't time; I must work.—But now for our new contrivance [He pulls a cord, a curtain slips down inside, the lower part consisting of a piece of old sailcloth, the upper part of a stretched fishing net. The floor of the garret is thus no longer visible.

Hialmar.

[Goes to the table.] So! Now, perhaps I can sit in peace for a little while.

Gina.

Is he rampaging in there again?

Hialmar.

Would you rather have had him slip down to Madam Eriksen's. [Seats himself.] Do you want anything? You know you said