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other boys. So nothing had happened to him—neither the one thing nor the other. And the torturing reality was nothing but a dream, I thought. Oh, how I thanked and blessed [Checking himself.] H'm!
Rita.
[Looking at him.] Whom?
Allmers.
[Evasively.] Whom?
Rita.
Yes; whom did you thank and bless?
Allmers.
[Putting aside the question.] I was only dreaming, you know
Rita.
One whom you yourself do not believe in?
Allmers.
That was how I felt, all the same. Of course, I was sleeping
Rita.
[Reproachfully.] You should not have taught me to doubt, Alfred.
Allmers.
Would it have been right of me to let you go through life with your mind full of empty fictions?
