ASTA. [Taking his hat.] Some black crap. ALLMERS. Oh, whet is the use of that? ASTA. Rita asked me to put it on. May I? ALLMERS. Oh, yes; as far as I'm concerned-- [She sews the crape on his hat.] ALLMERS. [Sitting and looking at her.] Where is Rita? ASTA. She is walking about the garden a little, I think. Borgheim is with her. ALLMERS. [Slightly surprised.] Indeed! Is Borgheim out here to-day again? ASTA. Yes. He came out by the mid-day train. ALLMERS. I didn't expect that. ASTA. [Serving.] He was so fond of Eyolf. ALLMERS. Borgheim is a faithful soul, Asta. ASTA. [With quiet warmth.] Yes, faithful he is, indeed. That is certain. ALLMERS. [Fixing his eyes upon her.] You are really fond of him? ASTA. Yes, I am. ALLMERS. And yet you cannot make up your mind to--? ASTA. [Interrupting.] Oh, my dear Alfred, don't talk of that! ALLMERS. Yes, yes; tell me why you cannot? ASTA. Oh, no! Please! You really must not ask me. You see, it's so painful for me.--There now! The hat is done. ALLMERS. Thank you. ASTA. And now for the left arm. ALLMERS. Am I to have crape on it too? ASTA. Yes, that is the custom. ALLMERS. Well--as you please.