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Asta.
Perhaps not always.
Allmers.
Towards father, do you mean?
Asta.
Yes.
Allmers.
I never noticed that.
Asta.
[Struggling with her tears, rises.] Oh, my dear Alfred—let them rest—those who are gone. [She goes towards the right.
Allmers.
[Rising.] Yes, let them rest. [Wringing his hands.] But those who are gone—it is they that won't let us rest, Asta. Neither day nor night.
Asta.
[Looks warmly at him.] Time will make it all seem easier, Alfred.
Allmers.
[Looking helplessly at her.] Yes, don't you think it will?—But how I am to get over these terrible first days [Hoarsely.]—that is what I cannot imagine.
Asta.
[Imploringly, laying her hands on his shoulders.] Go up to Rita. Oh, please do
