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Asta.
Hoist a flag just now?
Borgheim.
Half-mast high. She wants it to fly both night and day, she says.
Asta.
[Sighing.] Poor Rita! And poor Alfred!
Borgheim.
[Busied with the flag.] Have you the heart to leave them? I ask, because I see you are in travelling-dress.
Asta.
[In a low voice.] I must go.
Borgheim.
Well, if you must, then
Asta.
And you are going, too, to-night?
Borgheim.
I must, too. I am going by the train. Are you going that way?
Asta.
No. I shall take the steamer.
Borgheim.
[Glancing at her.] We each take our own way, then?
