Part 20

MRS. ELVSTED.

What do you mean?

HEDDA.

Could you not see that I wanted him to go?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, to write the letter--

HEDDA.

And that I might speak to you alone.

MRS. ELVSTED.

HEDDA.

Precisely.

MRS. ELVSTED.

HEDDA.

Oh yes, but there is. There is a great deal more--I can see that. Sit here--and we'll have a cosy, confidential chat.

MRS. ELVSTED.

HEDDA.

Oh, you can't be in such a hurry.--Well? Now tell me something about your life at home.

MRS. ELVSTED.

Oh, that is just what I care least to speak about.

HEDDA.

But to me, dear--? Why, weren't we schoolfellows?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, but you were in the class above me. Oh, how dreadfully afraid of you I was then!

HEDDA.

Afraid of me?

MRS. ELVSTED.

Yes, dreadfully. For when we met on the stairs you used always to pull my hair.

HEDDA.