Selma.
No, it's not nothing! At home Erik was out of humour, and here I can see it in your looks: there is something wrong. What is it?
The Chamberlain.
Nothing you need trouble about, at any rate. You are too dainty to carry burdens, my little Selma. Go into the drawing-room for the present. If Erik said he was coming, he will be here soon, no doubt.
Selma.
Come, Thora—and be sure you don't let me sit in a draught! [Embracing her.] Oh, I could hug the life out of you, my sweet Thora!
[The two ladies go off to the left.
The Chamberlain.
So they are hand in glove, are they, the two speculators! They should go into partnership. Monsen and Bratsberg—how nice it would sound!
[A knock at the door in the back.] Come in!
Stensgård enters.
The Chamberlain.
[Recoiling a step.] What is this?
Stensgård.
Yes, here I am again, Chamberlain!
The Chamberlain.
So I see.
Fieldbo.
Are you mad, Stensgård?
