Yes. It doesn’t take young people long to fall in love——; h’m—— GREGERS. [_Rises and moves about a little._] Tell me: was it after your engagement—was it then that my father—I mean was it then that you began to take up photography? HIALMAR. Yes, precisely. I wanted to make a start, and to set up house as soon as possible; and your father and I agreed that this photography business was the readiest way. Gina thought so too. Oh, and there was another thing in its favour, by-the-bye: it happened, luckily, that Gina had learnt to retouch. GREGERS. That chimed in marvellously. HIALMAR. [_Pleased, rises._] Yes, didn’t it? Don’t you think it was a marvellous piece of luck? GREGERS. Oh, unquestionably. My father seems to have been almost a kind of providence for you. HIALMAR. [_With emotion._] He did not forsake his old friend’s son in the hour of his need. For he _has_ a heart, you see. MRS. SÖRBY. [_Enters, arm-in-arm with WERLE._] Nonsense, my dear Mr. Werle; you mustn’t stop there any longer staring at all the lights. It’s very bad for you. WERLE. [_Lets go her arm and passes his hand over his eyes._] I daresay you are right. [PETTERSEN _and_ JENSEN _carry round refreshment trays._] MRS. SÖRBY. [_To the Guests in the other room._] This way, if you please, gentlemen. Whoever wants a glass of punch must be so good as to come in here. THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN. [_Comes up to MRS. SÖRBY._] Surely, it isn’t possible that you have suspended our cherished right to smoke? MRS. SÖRBY. Yes. No smoking here, in Mr. Werle’s sanctum, Chamberlain. THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN. When did you enact these stringent amendments on the cigar law, Mrs. Sörby? MRS. SÖRBY. After the last dinner, Chamberlain, when certain persons permitted themselves to overstep the mark. THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN. And may one never overstep the mark a little bit, Madame Bertha? Not the least little bit? MRS. SÖRBY. Not in any respect whatsoever, Mr. Balle. [_Most of the Guests have assembled in the study; servants hand round glasses of punch._ WERLE. [_To HIALMAR, who is standing beside a table._] What are you studying so intently, Ekdal? HIALMAR. Only an album, Mr. Werle. THE THIN-HAIRED GENTLEMAN. [_Who is wandering about._] Ah, photographs! They are quite in your line of course. THE FLABBY GENTLEMAN. [_In an arm-chair._] Haven’t you brought any of your own with you?