ASTA. You know you asked me to arrange them for you while you were
away.

ALLMERS. [Pats her on the head.] And you have actually found time
to do that, dear?

ASTA. Oh, yes. I have done it partly out here and partly at my own
rooms in town.

ALLMERS. Thanks, dear. Did you find anything particular in them?

ASTA. [Lightly.] Oh, you know you always find something or other in
such old papers. [Speaking lower and seriously.] It is the letters
to mother that are in this portfolio.

ALLMERS. Those, of course, you must keep yourself.

ASTA. [With an effort.] No; I am determined that you shall look
through them, too, Alfred. Some time--later on in life. I haven't
the key of the portfolio with me just now.

ALLMERS. It doesn't matter, my dear Asta, for I shall never read
your mother's letters in any case.

ASTA. [Fixing her eyes on him.] Then some time or other--some quiet
evening--I will tell you a little of what is in them.

ALLMERS. Yes, that will be much better. But do you keep your
mother's letters--you haven't so many mementos of her.