Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/329



[In fear and agitation.] Let me pass, I say! He must not go away from me!

It is utterly useless, I tell you! You will never overtake him.

Let me go, Ella! I will cry aloud after him all down the road. And he must hear his mother's cry!

He cannot hear you. You may be sure he is in the sledge already.

No, no; he can't be in the sledge yet!

The doors are closed upon him long ago, believe me.

[In despair.] If he is in the sledge, then he is there with her, with her—her!

[Laughing gloomily.] Then he probably won't hear his mother's cry.

No, he will not hear it. [Listening.] Hark! what is that?