THE INSPECTOR.

No, how could I be mistaken in that?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looks at him with eager interest.] You have heard her yourself?

THE INSPECTOR.

Yes.  I myself have spoken to her—­several times.—­Only a few words, however; she is far from communicative.  But—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

But Norwegian it was?

THE INSPECTOR.

Thoroughly good Norwegian—­perhaps with a little north-country accent.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Gazing straight before him in amazement, whispers.] That too?

MAIA.

[A little hurt and jarred.] Perhaps this lady has been one of your models, Rubek?  Search your memory.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looks cuttingly at her.] My models?

MAIA.

[With a provoking smile.] In your younger days, I mean.  You are said to have had innumerable models—­long ago, of course.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[In the same tone.] Oh no, little Frau Maia.  I have in reality had only one single model.  One and only one—­for everything I have done.

THE INSPECTOR.

[Who has turned away and stands looking out to the left.] If you’ll excuse me, I think I will take my leave.  I see some one coming whom it is not particularly agreeable to meet.  Especially in the presence of ladies.

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

[Looking in the same direction.] That sportsman there?  Who is it?

THE INSPECTOR.

It is a certain Mr. Ulfheim, from—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Oh, Mr. Ulfheim—–­

THE INSPECTOR.

—­the bear-killer, as they call him—–­

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

I know him.

THE INSPECTOR.

Who does not know him?

PROFESSOR RUBEK.

Very slightly, however.  Is he on your list of patients—­at last?

THE INSPECTOR.

No, strangely enough—­not as yet.  He comes here only once a year—­on his way up to his hunting-grounds.—­Excuse me for the moment—–­