This page needs to be proofread.
Bastian.
Oh, damn it all! [Goes out by the back.
Stensgård.
Is she reading it?
Servant.
Yes; and it seems quite to have upset her.
Stensgård.
Good-bye, Mr. Monsen; dinner at Stonelee to-morrow?
Monsen.
Yes, to-morrow. Good-bye!
Stensgård.
[Whispers.] Mr. Heire, will you do me a service?
Heire.
Certainly, certainly.
Stensgård.
Then just run me down a little to Madam Rundholmen; indulge in an innuendo or two at my expense. You are so good at that sort of thing.
Heire.
What the deuce is the meaning of this?
Stensgård.
I have my reasons. It's a joke, you know—a wager with—with some one you have a grudge against.
Heire.
Aha, I understand. I say no more!
