Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/128

 other boys. So nothing had happened to him—neither the one thing nor the other. And the torturing reality was nothing but a dream, I thought. Oh, how I thanked and blessed [Checking himself.] H'm!

[Looking at him.] Whom?

[Evasively.] Whom?

Yes; whom did you thank and bless?

[Putting aside the question.] I was only dreaming, you know

One whom you yourself do not believe in?

That was how I felt, all the same. Of course, I was sleeping

[Reproachfully.] You should not have taught me to doubt, Alfred.

Would it have been right of me to let you go through life with your mind full of empty fictions?