Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 8).djvu/390

 Gregers.

You mustn't ask that till you are a big girl—quite grown-up.

Hedvig.

[Sobs.] But I can't go on being as miserable as this till I'm grown-up.—I think I know what it is.—Perhaps I'm not really father's child.

Gregers.

[Uneasily.] How could that be?

Hedvig.

Mother might have found me. And perhaps father has just got to know it; I've read of such things.

Gregers.

Well, but if it were so

Hedvig.

I think he might be just as fond of me for all that. Yes, fonder almost. We got the wild duck in a present, you know, and I love it so dearly all the same.

Gregers.

[Turning the conversation.] Ah, the wild duck, by-the-bye! Let us talk about the wild duck a little, Hedvig.

Hedvig.

The poor wild duck! He doesn't want to see it any more either. Only think, he wanted to wring its neck!

Gregers.

Oh, he won't do that.