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Stensgård.
Don't go too far, you know. Just place me in a more or less equivocal light—make her a little suspicious of me, for the moment.
Heire.
Rely upon me; it will be a real pleasure to me.
Stensgård.
Thanks, thanks in advance. [Goes towards the table.] Mr. Lundestad, we shall meet to-morrow forenoon at the Chamberlain's.
Lundestad.
Have you hopes?
Stensgård.
A threefold hope.
Lundestad.
Threefold? I don't understand
Stensgård.
You needn't. Henceforth I will be my own counsellor. [Goes out by the back.
Monsen.
[At the punch-bowl.] Another glass, Aslaksen! Where's Bastian?
Aslaksen.
He's just gone out. But I have a letter to deliver for him.
Monsen.
Have you?
Aslaksen.
To Madam Rundholmen.
