Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/453

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[Curtly.] At that word I left you.

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You take everything so painfully to heart, Irene.

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[Drawing her hand over her forehead.] Perhaps you are right. Let us shake off all the hard things that go to the heart. [''Plucks off the leaves of a mountain rose and strews them on the brook.''] Look there, Arnold. There are our birds swimming.

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What birds are they?

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Can you not see? Of course they are flamingoes. Are they not rose-red?

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Flamingoes do not swim. They only wade.

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Then they are not flamingoes. They are sea-gulls.

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They may be sea-gulls with red bills, yes. [''Plucks broad green leaves and throws them into the brook.''] Now I send out my ships after them.