open umbrella.]

ASTA. [Goes quietly and cautiously up to him.] You ought not to sit
down here in this gloomy weather, Alfred.

ALLMERS. [Nods slowly without answering.]

ASTA. [Closing her umbrella.] I have been searching for you such a
long time.

ALLMERS. [Without expression.] Thank you.

ASTA. [Moves a chair and seats herself close to him.] Have you been
sitting here long? All the time?

ALLMERS. [Does not answer at first. Presently he says.] No, I
cannot grasp it. It seems so utterly impossible.

ASTA. [Laying her hand compassionately on his arm.] Poor Alfred!

ALLMERS. [Gazing at her.] Is it really true then, Asta? Or have I
gone mad? Or am I only dreaming? Oh, if it were only a dream! Just
think, if I were to waken now!

ASTA. Oh, if I could only waken you!

ALLMERS. [Looking out over the water.] How pitiless the fiord looks
to-day, lying so heavy and drowsy--leaden-grey--with splashes of
yellow--and reflecting the rain-clouds.