[HEDVIG _goes out._ GINA _begins to sweep and clean up the studio. Presently the passage door is opened with hesitation, and_ HIALMAR EKDAL _looks in. He has on his overcoat, but not his hat; he is unwashed, and his hair is dishevelled and unkempt. His eyes are dull and heavy._ GINA. [_Standing with the brush in her hand, and looking at him._] Oh, there now, Ekdal—so you’ve come after all? HIALMAR. [_Comes in and answers in a toneless voice._] I come—only to depart again immediately. GINA. Yes, yes, I suppose so. But, Lord help us! what a sight you are! HIALMAR. A sight? GINA. And your nice winter coat too! Well, that’s done for. HEDVIG. [_At the kitchen door._] Mother, hadn’t I better——? [_Sees HIALMAR, gives a loud scream of joy, and runs to him._] Oh, father, father! HIALMAR. [_Turns away and makes a gesture of repulsion._] Away, away, away! [_To GINA._] Keep her away from me, I say! GINA. [_In a low tone._] Go into the sitting-room, Hedvig. [HEDVIG _does so without a word._ HIALMAR. [_Fussily pulls out the table-drawer._] I must have my books with me. Where are my books? GINA. Which books? HIALMAR. My scientific books, of course; the technical magazines I require for my invention. GINA. [_Searches in the bookcase._] Is it these here paper-covered ones? HIALMAR. Yes, of course. GINA. [_Lays a heap of magazines on the table._] Shan’t I get Hedvig to cut them for you? HIALMAR. I don’t require to have them cut for me. [_Short silence._ GINA. Then you’re still set on leaving us, Ekdal? HIALMAR. [_Rummaging amongst the books._] Yes, that is a matter of course, I should think. GINA. Well, well. HIALMAR. [_Vehemently._] How can I live here, to be stabbed to the heart every hour of the day? GINA. God forgive you for thinking such vile things of me. HIALMAR. Prove——! GINA. I think it’s _you_ as has got to prove. HIALMAR. After a past like yours? There are certain claims—I may almost call them claims of the ideal—— GINA. But what about grandfather? What’s to become of _him_, poor dear?