Page:The collected works of Henrik Ibsen (Volume 7).djvu/192

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Engstrand.

It's the Lord's own rain, my girl.

Regina.

It's the devil's rain, I say.

Engstrand.

Lord, how you talk, Regina. [Limps a step or two forward into the room.] It's just this as I wanted to say——

Regina.

Don't clatter so with that foot of yours, I tell you! The young master's asleep upstairs.

Engstrand.

Asleep? In the middle of the day?

Regina.

It's no business of yours.

Engstrand.

I was out on the loose last night——

Regina.

I can quite believe that.

Engstrand.

Yes, we're weak vessels, we poor mortals, my girl——

Regina.

So it seems.

Engstrand.

——and temptations are manifold in this world, you see. But all the same, I was hard at work, God knows, at half-past five this morning.