LOVBORG.
[Puts the pistol in his breast pocket.] Thanks!
HEDDA.
And beautifully, Eilert Lovborg. Promise me that!
LOVBORG.
Good-bye, Hedda Gabler. [He goes out by the hall door. [HEDDA listens for a moment at the door. Then she goes up to the writing-table, takes out the packet of manuscript, peeps under the cover, draws a few of the sheets half out, and looks at them. Next she goes over and seats herself in the arm-chair beside the stove, with the packet in her lap. Presently she opens the stove door, and then the packet.
HEDDA.
[Throws one of the quires into the fire and whispers to herself.] Now I am burning your child, Thea! — Burning it, curly-locks! [Throwing one or two more quires into the stove.] Your child and Eilert Lovborg's. [Throws the rest in.] I am burning — I am burning your child.
