Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/411

 a drop of something hot, if you'd fancy it. And there's some bread and butter and a snack of salt meat.

Hialmar.

[Glancing at the tray.] Salt meat? Never under this roof! It's true I have not had a mouthful of solid food for nearly twenty-four hours; but no matter.—My memoranda! The commencement of my autobiography! What has become of my diary, and all my important papers? [Opens the sitting-room door but draws back.] She is there too!

Gina.

Good Lord! the child must be somewhere!

Hialmar.

Come out.

[He makes room, Hedvig comes, scared, into the studio.

Hialmar.

[With his hand upon the door-handle, says to Gina:] In these, the last moments I spend in my former home, I wish to be spared from interlopers [Goes into the room.

Hedvig.

[With a bound towards her mother, asks softly, trembling.] Does that mean me?

Gina.

Stay out in the kitchen, Hedvig; or, no—you'd best go into your own room. [Speaks to Hialmar as she goes in to him.] Wait a bit, Ekdal; don't rummage so in the drawers; I know where everything is.