RITA. I was so sorry for him--because you troubled yourself so
little about him. You kept him reading and grinding at books. You
scarcely even saw him.

ALLMERS. [Nodding slowly.] No; I was blind. The time had not yet
come for me--

RITA. [Looking in his face.] But now, I suppose, it has come?

ALLMERS. Yes, at, last. Now I see that the highest task I can have
in the world is to be a true father to Eyolf.

RITA. And to me?--what will you be to me?

ALLMERS. [Gently.] I will always go on caring for you--with calm,
deep tenderness. [ He tries to take her hands.]

RITA. [Evading him.] I don't care a bit for your calm, deep
tenderness. I want you utterly and entirely--and alone! Just as I
had you in the first rich, beautiful days. [Vehemently and
harshly.] Never, never will I consent to be put off with scraps and
leavings, Alfred!

ALLMERS. [In a conciliatory tone.] I should have thought there was
happiness in plenty for all three of us, Rita.

RITA. [Scornfully.] Then you are easy to please. [Seats herself at
the table on the left.] Now listen to me.