Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 6).djvu/47

 Heire.

Your pardon, young man! That outburst of indignation does honour to your heart. I beg you to forget an old man's untimely frankness about your absent friends.

Stensgård.

Absent friends?

Heire.

I have nothing to say against the son, of course—nor against the daughter. And if I happened to cast a passing slur upon the Chamberlain's character

Stensgård.

The Chamberlain's? Is it the Chamberlain's family you call my friends?

Heire.

Well, you don't pay visits to your enemies, I presume?

Bastian.

Visits?

Monsen.

What?

Heire.

Ow, ow, ow! Here am I letting cats out of bags—-!

Monsen.

Have you been paying visits at the Chamberlain's?

Stensgård.

Nonsense! A misunderstanding