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Allmers.
[Patting him on the head.] So you know that, do you?
Eyolf.
[Cautiously.] Then perhaps it may be true, after all, that she is a were-wolf at night. Do you believe that, Papa?
Allmers.
Oh, no; I don't believe it. Now you ought to go and play a little in the garden.
Eyolf.
Should I not take some books with me?
Allmers.
No, no books after this. You had better go down to the beach to the other boys.
Eyolf.
[Shyly.] No, Papa, I won't go down to the boys to-day.
Allmers.
Why not?
Eyolf.
Oh, because I have these clothes on.
Allmers.
[Knitting his brows.] Do you mean that they make fun of—of your pretty clothes?
Eyolf.
[Evasively.] No, they daren't—for then I would thrash them.
