Borgheim.
Ah, now, that's right! Out into the open air with him, poor little fellow! Good Lord, what can we possibly do better than play in this blessed world? For my part, I think all life is one long playtime!—Come, Miss Asta!
[Borgheim and Asta go out on the verandah and down through the garden.
Allmers.
[Stands looking after them.] Rita—do you think there is anything between those two?
Rita.
I don't know what to say. I used to think there was. But Asta has grown so strange to me—so utterly incomprehensible of late.
Allmers.
Indeed! Has she? While I have been away?
Rita.
Yes, within the last week or two.
Allmers.
And you think she doesn't care very much about him now?
Rita.
Not seriously; not utterly and entirely; not unreservedly—I am sure she doesn't. [Looks searchingly at him.] Would it displease you if she did?
