Another time perhaps.
[She again strolls about the room, stops at the desk and turns
over the books and papers a little.
SOLNESS.
[Approaching.] Are you searching for anything?
HILDA.
No, I am merely looking at all these things. [Turns.] Perhaps I
mustn't?
SOLNESS.
Oh, by all means.
HILDA.
Is it you that writes in this great ledger?
SOLNESS.
No, it's my book-keeper.
HILDA.
Is it a woman?
SOLNESS.
[Smiles.] Yes.
HILDA.
One you employ here, in your office?
SOLNESS.
Yes.
HILDA.
Is she married?
SOLNESS.
No, she is single.
HILDA.
Oh, indeed!
SOLNESS.
But I believe she is soon going to be married.
HILDA.
That's a good thing for her.
SOLNESS.
But not such a good thing for me. For then I shall have nobody to
help me.
HILDA.
Can't you get hold of some one else who will do just as well?
SOLNESS.
Perhaps you would stay here and--and write in the ledger?
HILDA.
[Measures him with a glance.] Yes, I daresay! No, thank you--
nothing of that sort for me.
[She again strolls across the room, and sits down on the
rocking-chair.
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