y want, Alfred?

ALLMERS. I want to get away from everything here--far, far away from it
all.

ASTA. And to stand quite alone in the world?

ALLMERS. [Nods.] As I used to, before, yes.

ASTA. But you are not fitted for living alone!

ALLMERS. Oh, yes. I was so in the old days, at any rate.

ASTA. In the old days, yes; for then you had me with you.

ALLMERS. [Trying to take her hand.] Yes. And it is to you, Asta, that I
now want to come home again.

ASTA. [Eluding him.] To me! No, no, Alfred! That is quite impossible.

ALLMERS. [Looks sadly at her.] Then Borgheim stands in the way after
all?

ASTA. [Earnestly.] No, no; he does not! That is quite a mistake!

ALLMERS. Good. Then I will come to you--my dear, dear sister. I must
come to you again--home to you, to be purified and ennobled after my
life with--

ASTA. [Shocked.] Alfred,--you are doing Rita a great wrong!

ALLMERS. I have done her a great wrong. But not in this. Oh, think of
it, Asta--think of our life together, yours and mine. Was it not like
one long holy-day from first to last?

ASTA. Yes, it was, Alfred. But we can never live it over again.

ALLMERS. [Bitterly.] Do you mean that marriage has so irreparably ruined
me?

ASTA. [Quietly.] No, that is not what I mean.

ALLMERS. Well, then we two will live our old life over again.

ASTA. [With decision.] We cannot, Alfred.

ALLMERS. Yes, we can. For the love of a brother and sister--

ASTA. [Eagerly.] What of it?

ALLMERS. That is the only relation in life that is not subject to the
law of change.

ASTA. [Softly and tremblingly.] But if that relation were not--

ALLMERS. Not--?

ASTA.--not our relation?

ALLMERS. [Stares at her in astonishment.] Not ours? Why, what can you
mean by that?

ASTA. It is best I should tell you at once, Alfred.

ALLMERS. Yes, yes; tell me!

ASTA. The letters to mother--. Those in my portfolio--

ALLMERS. Well?

ASTA. You must read them--when I am gone.

ALLMERS. Why must I?

ASTA. [Struggling with herself.] For then you will see that--

ALLMERS. Well?

ASTA.--that I have no right to bear your father's name.

ALLMERS. [Staggering backwards.] Asta! What is this you say!

ASTA. Read the letters. Then you will see--and understand. And perhaps
have some forgiveness--for mother, too.

ALLMERS. [Clutching at his forehead.] I cannot grasp this--I cannot
realise the thought. You, Asta--you are not--

ASTA. You are not my brother, Alfred.

ALLM