Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 11).djvu/471

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[Pointing towards the back.] Oh, certainly! There is a sort of way—right down the face of the precipice yonder

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There, you see. With a little goodwill

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—but just you try if you dare go that way.

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[Doubtfully.] Do you think I can't?

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Never in this world—if you don't let me help you.

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[Uneasily.] Why, then come and help me! What else are you here for?

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Would you rather I should take you on my back?

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Nonsense!

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—or carry you in my arms?

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Now do stop talking that rubbish!

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[With suppressed exasperation.] I once took a young girl—lifted her up from the mire of the