BORGHEIM. Then I am glad I happened to come up.

ASTA. Have you been searching for me?

BORGHEIM. Yes, I have. I wanted to say good-bye to you for the present.

Not for good and all, I hope.

ASTA. [With a faint smile.] You are persevering.

BORGHEIM. A road-maker has got to be.

ASTA. Have you seen anything of Alfred? Or of Rita?

BORGHEIM. Yes, I saw them both.

ASTA. Together?

BORGHEIM. No--apart.

ASTA. What are you going to do with that flag?

BORGHEIM. Mrs. Allmers asked me to come up and hoist it.

ASTA. Hoist a flag just now?

BORGHEIM. Half-mast high. She wants it to fly both night and day, she says.

ASTA. [Sighing.] Poor Rita! And poor Alfred!

BORGHEIM. [Busied with the flag.] Have you the heart to leave them? I ask, because I see you are in travelling-dress.

ASTA. [In a low voice.] I must go.

BORGHEIM. Well, if you must, then--

ASTA. And you are going, too, to-night?

BORGHEIM. I must, too. I am going by the train. Are you going that way?

ASTA. No. I shall take the steamer.

BORGHEIM. [Glancing at her.] We each take our own way, then?

ASTA. Yes.

[She sits and looks on while he hoists the flag half-mast high. When he has done he goes up to her.]

BORGHEIM. Miss Asta--you can't think how grieved I am about little Eyolf.

ASTA. [Looks up at him.] Yes, I am sure you feel it deeply.

BORGHEIM. And the feeling tortures me. For the fact is, grief is not much in my way.

ASTA. [Raising her eyes to the flag.] It will pa.s.s over in time--all of it. All our sorrow.

BORGHEIM. All? Do you believe that?

ASTA. Like a squall at sea. When once you have got far away from here, then--

BORGHEIM. It will have to be very far away indeed.

ASTA. And then you have this great new road-work, too.

BORGHEIM. But no one to help me in it.

ASTA. Oh yes, surely you have.

BORGHEIM. [Shaking his head.] No one. No one to share the gladness with.

For it is gladness that most needs sharing.

ASTA. Not the labour and trouble?

BORGHEIM. Pooh--that sort of thing one can always get through alone.

ASTA. But the gladness--that must be shared with some one, you think?

BORGHEIM. Yes; for if not, where would be the pleasure in being glad?

ASTA. Ah yes--perhaps there is something in that.

BORGHEIM. Oh, of course, for a certain time you can go on feeling glad in your own heart. But it won't do in the long run. No, it takes two to be glad.

ASTA. Always two? Never more? Never many?

BORGHEIM. Well, you see--then it becomes a quite different matter. Miss Asta--are you sure you can never make up your mind to share gladness and success and--and labour and trouble, with one--with one alone in all the world?

ASTA. I have tried it--once.

BORGHEIM. Have you?

ASTA. Yes, all the time that my brother--that Alfred and I lived together.

BORGHEIM. Oh, with your brother, yes. But that is altogether different.

That ought rather to be called peace than happiness, I should say.

ASTA. It was delightful, all the same.

BORGHEIM. There now--you see even that seemed to you delightful. But just think now--if he had not been your brother!

ASTA. [Makes a movement to rise, but remains sitting.] Then we should never have been together. For I was a child then--and he wasn't much more.