little party this evening--so sorry we can't stop! Won't you come too?

_Hedda_. No, he must stop and read it to me and Mrs. ELVSTED instead.

_George_. It would never have occurred to me to think of such clever
things! Are you going to oppose me for the Professorship, eh?

_Lövborg_ (_modestly_). No; I shall only triumph over you in the
popular judgment--that's all!

_George_. Oh, is that all? Fancy! Let us go into the back drawing-room
and drink cold punch.

_Lövborg_. Thanks--but I am a reformed character, and have renounced
cold punch--it is poison.

[_GEORGE and BRACK go into the back-room and drink punch,
whilst HEDDA shows LÖVBORG a photograph album in the front._

_Lövborg_ (_slowly, in a low tone_). HEDDA GABLER! how _could_ you
throw yourself away like this!--Oh, is _that_ the ORTLER Group?
Beautiful!--Have you forgotten how we used to sit on the settee
together behind an illustrated paper, and--yes, very picturesque
peaks--I told you all about how I had been on the loose?

_Hedda_. Now, none of that, here! These are the Dolomites.--Yes, I
remember; it was a beautiful fascinating Norwegian intimacy--but
it's over now. See, we spent a night in that little mountain village,
TESMAN and I!