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 Lovborg will be here — with vine-leaves in his hair. [She drags MRS. ELVSTED almost by force to the middle doorway.
