[_Bowing, with self-command._] So I have observed; and therefore I take my hat and go. WERLE. You are going! Out of the house? GREGERS. Yes. For at last I see my mission in life. WERLE. What mission? GREGERS. You would only laugh if I told you. WERLE. A lonely man doesn’t laugh so easily, Gregers. GREGERS. [_Pointing towards the background._] Look, father,—the Chamberlains are playing blind-man’s-buff with Mrs. Sörby.—Good-night and good-bye. [_He goes out by the back to the right. Sounds of laughter and merriment from the Company, who are now visible in the outer room._ WERLE. [_Muttering contemptuously after_ GREGERS.] Ha——! Poor wretch—and he says he is not over-strained! ACT SECOND. HIALMAR EKDAL’S _studio, a good-sized room, evidently in the top storey of the building. On the right, a sloping roof of large panes of glass, half-covered by a blue curtain. In the right-hand corner, at the back, the entrance door; farther forward, on the same side, a door leading to the sitting-room. Two doors on the opposite side, and between them an iron stove. At the back, a wide double sliding-door. The studio is plainly but comfortably fitted up and furnished. Between the doors on the right, standing out a little from the wall, a sofa with a table and some chairs; on the table a lighted lamp with a shade; beside the stove an old arm-chair. Photographic instruments and apparatus of different kinds lying about the room. Against the back wall, to the left of the double door, stands a bookcase containing a few books, boxes, and bottles of chemicals, instruments, tools, and other objects. Photographs and small articles, such as camel’s-hair pencils, paper, and so forth, lie on the table._ GINA EKDAL _sits on a chair by the table, sewing._ HEDVIG _is sitting on the sofa, with her hands shading her eyes and her thumbs in her ears, reading a book._ GINA. [_Glances once or twice at_ HEDVIG, _as if with secret anxiety; then says_:] Hedvig! HEDVIG. [_Does not hear._] GINA. [_Repeats more loudly._] Hedvig! HEDVIG. [_Takes away her hands and looks up._] Yes, mother? GINA. Hedvig dear, you mustn’t sit reading any longer now. HEDVIG. Oh mother, mayn’t I read a little more? Just a little bit? GINA. No no, you must put away your book now. Father doesn’t like it; he never reads hisself in the evening.