at all. ASTA. [Shaking her head.] It makes all the difference, Alfred. Our relation is not that of brother and sister. ALLMERS. No, no. But it is none the less sacred for that--it will always be equally sacred. ASTA. Do not forget--that it is subject to the law of change, as you said just now. ALLMERS. [Looks inquiringly at her.] Do you mean that-- ASTA. [Quietly, but with rearm emotion.] Not a word more--my dear, dear Alfred. [Takes up the flowers from the chair.] Do you see these water-lilies? ALLMERS. [Nodding slowly.] They are the sort that shoot up--from the very depth. ASTA. I pulled them in the tarn--where it flows out into the fiord. [Holds them out to him.] Will you take them, Alfred? ALLMERS. [Taking them.] Thanks. ASTA. [With tears in her eyes.] They are a last greeting to you, from--from little Eyolf. ALLMERS. [Looking at her.] From Eyolf out yonder? Or from you? ASTA. [Softly.] From both of us. [Taking up her umbrella.] Now come with me to Rita. [She goes up the wood-path.] ALLMERS. [Takes up his hat from the table, and whispers sadly.] Asta. Eyolf. Little Eyolf--! [He follows her up the path.] ACT THIRD [An elevation, overgrown with shrubs, in ALLMERS'S garden. At the back a sheer cliff, with a railing along its edge, and with steps on the left leading downwards. An extensive view over the fiord, which lies deep below. A flagstaff with lines, but no flag, stands by the railing. In front, on the right, a summer-house, covered with creepers and wild vines. Outside it, a bench. It is a late summer evening, with clear sky. Deepening twilight.]