Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/298

 Bernick.

[Advancing a step.] What we?

Lona.

Why, my boy and I, of course.

The Ladies.

[With a cry.] Your boy!

Hilmar.

What?

Rörlund.

Well, I must say

Mrs. Bernick.

Why, what do you mean, Lona?

Lona.

Of course I mean John; I have no other boy but John, that I know of—or Johan, as you call him.

Mrs. Bernick.

Johan!

Mrs. Rummel.

[Aside to Mrs. Lynge.] The prodigal brother.

Bernick.

[Hesitatingly.] Is Johan with you?

Lona.

Of course, of course; I would never travel without him. But you're all looking so dismal—and sitting here in this twilight, sewing at something white. There hasn't been a death in the family?