Hovstad.
[Half turning.] Are you counting on that?
Billing.
Counting? How should I be counting on it?
Hovstad.
Best not! And that secretaryship you shouldn't count on either; for I can assure you you won't get it.
Billing.
Do you think I don't know that? A refusal is the very thing I want. Such a rebuff fires the spirit of opposition in you, gives you a fresh supply of gall, as it were; and that's just what you need in a god-forsaken hole like this, where anything really stimulating so seldom happens.
Hovstad.
[Writing.] Yes, yes.
Billing.
Well—they shall soon hear from me!—Now I'll go and write the appeal to the House-owners' Association. [Goes into the room on the right.
Hovstad.
[Sits at his desk, biting his penholder, and says slowly:] H'm—so that's the way of it.—[A knock at the door.] Come in.
Petra enters from the back, left.
Hovstad.
[Rising.] What! Is it you? Here?
