This page needs to be proofread.
The Guests.
[For the most part in painful embarrassment.]
The Chamberlain! Chamberlain Bratsberg!
The Chamberlain.
Ladies! Gentlemen! [Softly.] Thora!
Thora.
Father!
The Chamberlain.
Oh, Doctor, Doctor, what have you done
Stensgård.
[With his glass in his handy radiant with self-satisfaction.] Now to our places again! Hullo, Fieldbo! Come, join in—join in the League of Youth! The game's going merrily!
Heire.
[In front, on the left.] Yes, on my soul, the game's going merrily!
[Lundestad slips out by the door in the back.
