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Asta.
Then I must go on board. Will you go with me?
Borgheim.
[With a suppressed outburst of joy.] Will I? Yes, yes!
Asta.
Then come!
Rita.
[Slowly.] Ah! That is how it is. Well, then, you cannot stay with us.
Asta.
[Throwing her arms round her neck.] Thanks for everything, Rita! [Goes up to Allmers and grasps his hand.] Alfred—good-bye! A thousand times, good-bye!
Allmers.
[Softly and eagerly.] What is this, Asta? It seems as though you were taking flight.
Asta.
[In subdued anguish.] Yes, Alfred—I am taking flight.
Allmers.
Flight—from me!
Asta.
[Whispering.] From you—and from myself.
