Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/375



Hush; I've a deep foreboding that the man Will rob me of my treasure, if he can. The fellow, as we know, comes daily down, Is rich, unmarried, takes you round the town; In short, my own, regard it as we will, There are a thousand things that bode us ill.

[sighing]. Oh, it's too bad; to-day was so delicious! [sympathetically to ]. Don't wreck your joy, unfoundedly suspicious, Don't hoist your flag till time the truth disclose—   Great God! Miss Jay is looking; hush, be still! [She and withdraw in different directions.

[looking after ]. So to the ruin of his youth he goes. [Who has meantime been conversing on the steps with and, approaches  and slaps him on the shoulder.

Well, brooding on a poem?