over what can't be undone—eh? We must try to control our grief as much as possible, and
Mrs. Elvsted.
Yes, yes, Mr. Tesman, I will do the best I can.
Tesman.
Well then, come here. I can't rest until we have looked through the notes. Where shall we sit? Here? No, in there, in the back room. Excuse me, my dear Judge. Come with me, Mrs. Elvsted.
Mrs. Elvsted.
Oh, if only it were possible!
[Tesman and Mrs. Elvsted go into the back room. She takes off her hat and cloak. They both sit at the table under the hanging lamp, and are soon deep in an eager examination of the papers. Hedda crosses to the stove and sits in the arm-chair. Presently Brack goes up to her.]
Hedda.
[In a low voice.] Oh, what a sense of freedom it gives one, this act of Eilert Lövborg's.
Brack.
Freedom, Mrs. Hedda? Well, of course, it is a release for him
Hedda.
I mean for me. It gives me a sense of freedom to know that a deed of deliberate courage is still possible in this world,—a deed of spontaneous beauty.
