Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Heinemann Volume 1).pdf/485

 [smiling]. My ground is, as I said last night, A kind of poetry—                       In practice. [nodding slowly]. Right! And if one asked the source from which you drew—? [Glancing a moment at, and then turning again to  A common source discovered by us two. Now I must go. No, wait till I conclude. I should not ask so much of others. You, Svanhild, I've learnt to fathom thro' and thro'; You are too sensible to play the prude. I watched expand, unfold, your little life; A perfect woman I divined within you, But long I only saw a daughter in you;— Now I ask of you—will you be my wife? [ draws back in embarrassment.