Mrs. Elvsted.
Oh, how very, very kind of you! [Presses his hands.] Thanks, thanks, thanks! [Frightened.] You see, my husband is so very fond of him!
Hedda.
[Rising.] You ought to write to him, Tesman. Perhaps he may not care to come to you of his own accord.
Tesman.
Well, perhaps it would be the right thing to do, Hedda? Eh?
Hedda.
And the sooner the better. Why not at once?
Mrs. Elvsted.
[Imploringly.] Oh, if you only would!
Tesman.
I'll write this moment. Have you his address, Mrs.—Mrs. Elvsted.
Mrs. Elvsted.
Yes. [Takes a slip of paper from her pocket, and hands it to him.] Here it is.
Tesman.
Good, good. Then I'll go in [Looks about him.] By-the-bye,—my slippers? Oh, here.
[Takes the packet, and is about to go.
Hedda.
Be sure you write him a cordial, friendly letter. And a good long one too.
