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Asta.
Do not forget—that it is subject to the law of change, as you said just now.
Allmers.
[Looks inquiringly at her.] Do you mean that
Asta.
[Quietly, but with warm emotion.] Not a word more—my dear, dear Alfred. [Takes up the flowers from the chair.] Do you see these water-lilies?
Allmers.
[Nodding slowly.] They are the sort that shoot up—from the very depth.
Asta.
I pulled them in the tarn—where it flows out into the fiord. [Holds them out to him.] Will you take them, Alfred?
Allmers.
[Taking them.] Thanks.
Asta.
[With tears in her eyes.] They are a last greeting to you, from—from little Eyolf.
Allmers.
[Looking at her.] From Eyolf out yonder? Or from you?
