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Hialmar.
No, of course they won't; take your own time.
Gina.
Very well; and meanwhile you can be working a bit.
Hialmar.
Well, I am working! I am working as hard as I can!
Gina.
Then you'll have that job off your hands, you see.
[She goes out to the kitchen with her basket. [Hialmar sits for a time pencilling away at the photograph, in an indolent and listless manner.
Ekdal.
[Peeps in, looks round the studio, and says softly:] Are you busy?
Hialmar.
Yes I'm toiling at these wretched pictures
Ekdal.
Well well, never mind,—since you're so busy—-h'm! [He goes out again; the door stands open.
Hialmar.
[Continues for some time in silence; then he lays down his brush and goes over to the door.] Are you busy, father?
Ekdal.
[In a grumbling tone, within.] If you're busy, I'm busy too. H'm!
Hialmar. Oh, very well, then. [Goes to his work again.
