Aslaksen.
Hurrah! Now there's some life in the local situation.
[He places the punch-bowl on the middle table, serves the others, and drinks freely himself during the following scene. Bastian Monsen has meanwhile entered from the right.
Bastian.
[Softly.] You won't forget my letter?
Aslaksen.
Don't be afraid. [Taps his breast pocket.] I have it here.
Bastian.
You'll deliver it as soon as you can—when you see she's disengaged, you understand.
Aslaksen.
I understand. [Calls.] Come, now, the glasses are filled.
Bastian.
You shan't do it for nothing, I promise you.
Aslaksen.
All right, all right. [To the servant.] A lemon, Karen—quick as the wind! [Bastian retires.
Stensgård.
A word, Aslaksen; shall you be passing here to-morrow evening?
Aslaksen.
To-morrow evening? I can, if you like.
