[_Stopping his ears._] Ugh, ugh, ugh! RÖRLUND. I think we should withdraw for a moment, ladies. This is no scene for us. Let us resume our work. MRS. BERNICK. Perhaps we ought to draw the curtains? RÖRLUND. Yes, that is just what I was thinking. [_The ladies take their places at the table;_ RÖRLUND _shuts the garden door and drams the curtains over it and over the windows; it becomes half dark in the room._ OLAF. [_Peeping out._] Mother, the manager’s wife is standing at the fountain washing her face! MRS. BERNICK. What? In the middle of the market-place? MRS. RUMMEL. And in broad daylight! HILMAR. Well, if I were travelling in the desert and came upon a well, I should never hesitate to——Ugh, that abominable clarinet! RÖRLUND. The police ought really to interfere. BERNICK. Oh, come; one must not be too hard upon foreigners; these people are naturally devoid of the deep-rooted sense of propriety that keeps us within the right limits. Let them do as they please; it cannot affect us. All this unseemliness, this rebellion against good taste and good manners, fortunately finds no echo, if I may say so, in our society.—What is this! _A_ STRANGE LADY _enters briskly by the door on the right._ THE LADIES. [_Frightened, and speaking low._] The circus woman! The manager’s wife! MRS. BERNICK. Why, what does this mean! MARTHA. [_Starts up._] Ah——! THE LADY. Good-morning, my dear Betty! Good-morning, Martha! Good-morning, brother-in-law! MRS. BERNICK. [_With a shriek._] Lona——! BERNICK. [_Staggers back a step._] Merciful heavens——! MRS. HOLT. Why, goodness me——! MRS. RUMMEL. It can’t be possible——! HILMAR. What? Ugh! MRS. BERNICK. Lona——! Is it really——? LONA. Really me? Yes, indeed it is. You may fall on my neck and embrace me, for that matter. HILMAR. _Ugh_! ugh! MRS. BERNICK. And you come here as——? BERNICK. You are actually going to appear——? LONA. Appear? How appear? BERNICK. I mean—in the circus——? LONA.