The Editor (under his breath). You brute!
The Doctor's Assistant. His old housekeeper does not feel equal to coming here to tell
you what his last words were. They were: "Forgive him!" (Goes out.)
The Editor (sitting down, then getting up again). No, I mustn't be found here. (Walks
about the room on tiptoe, as if he were afraid of waking some one. When he comes
opposite to the bedroom door, he turns towards it, stretches out his arms and says:) Give
me your forgiveness too!
(SCENE.--A large and handsomely furnished sitting-room at the EVJE'S. The room is
brightly lit and the fire burning. The entrance door is on the right, and beyond it a door
leading to the dining-room. INGEBORG is busy taking the covers off the chairs, folding
them carefully as she does so. After a little, the bell rings. She goes to open the door, and
returns, showing in the DOCTOR.)
The Doctor. Oho! Is it to be in here to-night?
Ingeborg (who has resumed her work of making the room ready). Yes, sir.
The Doctor. Where are they all?
Ingeborg. At the meeting, sir.
The Doctor. All of them?
Ingeborg. Yes, all of them. Miss Gertrud went first--
The Doctor. Yes, I saw her well enough!
Ingeborg. And then the master, and a farmer gentleman with him, came in to fetch the
The Doctor (to himself). Something has happened here, then. (Aloud.) Tell me,
Ingeborg--has he been here again? You know who I mean. (Coughs in imitation of the
Ingeborg. Oh, the Editor; no, sir.
The Doctor (to himself). I wonder what has happened. (Aloud.) Well, evidently there is
to be a festivity here to-night; and, as I see the chairs are getting their covers taken off, I
may as well take mine off too. (Takes off his coat and gives it to INGEBORG, who
carries it out.) I don't blame Evje for wanting to celebrate Harald's success after a meeting
like that! He is not exactly eloquent in the ordinary sense of the word--doesn't bother